


Opening Dialogue, or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Sith

by Chronomorphosis



Series: The Sith Tribunal AU [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Awkward Friendship, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Side Positivity, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Graphic Depictions of Dark Side Power, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi Critical, Minor Character Death, cross-faction friendship, probably not canon compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2018-11-05 09:40:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 170,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11010825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chronomorphosis/pseuds/Chronomorphosis
Summary: Things happen when a Sith and a Jedi accidentally-inadvertantly-unintentionally try to make friends.





	1. In Which Introductions Are Made, But Not To Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> This whole thing is just pure unadulterated self-indulgence, not beta’ed, and shared mostly on the off-chance that someone else out there might find this mess entertaining. My Dark Side positivity and loathing of the Jedi Order miiiiight end up showing through at some point. 
> 
> Cast of characters, in order of appearance: 
> 
> Domthus – Elomin Jedi  
> Teraia – Argazdan Jedi  
> Sivin Ikalruq – Feeorin Jedi  
> Callior – Sluissi Jedi  
> Hukartl – Harch Jedi  
> Stennis – Nikto Jedi  
> Gi’rel – Volpai Jedi  
> Astele – Bimm Sith Apprentice  
> Darth Belus/Adrestin Tsir – Annoo-dat Sith  
> Darth Erion – Ubese Sith 
> 
> Miscellaneous: The Ubese's dialogue is within angle brackets and indicates that they are speaking in their native language.
> 
> ******

“You know, I expected it to be darker.”

Teraia glanced over at the younger Jedi before turning her gaze up to the pink-and-orange-tinted sky above them, not a cloud to be seen. “What did you expect? It’s not even nightfall yet.”

The younger Jedi – Domthus, if she remembered correctly – just shrugged. “Well not _literally_ dark _._ Okay maybe a little. I don’t know, it’s my first time on a Sith graveyard world. Maybe a little fire and brimstone, or thunder and lightning and storming, or some devastated wasteland like the reports say about Korriban, or just… I don’t know. _Darker_. I mean, there’s _wildflowers_ next to my tent, for stars’ sake. Little bright cheery yellow ones. Not a thorn or sting or poison dart to be seen.”

Teraia laughed and spread out her bedroll on a stretch of more or less level ground. Domthus was new – new to these hit-and-run iconoclastic missions where they came in, destroyed Sith artifacts and temples, and got out – new to being out from under the supervision of a Master, and even new to being outside the Jedi temple in general. “Son, there are about as many types of planets as there are _planets_. They don’t often conform to expectations. Not every Sith world is going to be brooding and dreary.”

And Teraia would know. She’d been with BrightWatch almost since the operation had started. The only one who had been in it longer had been Sivin, but he wasn’t really one to take the time to explain things to the new recruits. Probably reminded him too much of his early days in the operation.

Teraia waved over one of her other companions and gestured to a collection of boulders a few dozen meters away. “Callior, I think it wise to have one of our two on watch duty to be stationed up there, for better visibility. It looks like there’s some notches in those rocks that would allow for both decent concealment and observation. I reckon we’re going to have a clear night.”

Callior nodded and conferred with a few others of their party, and Teraia turned her attention back to Domthus. “You almost look disappointed.”

He laughed. “Kind of! Wildflowers, clear skies, gentle breezes. Are you sure there’s even a Sith presence here?” He closed his eyes. “If I stretch out with the Force, I just feel the seasons turning from spring, and the plants blooming, and… and...”

Teraia nudged him gently on the shoulder, and Domthus’s eyes popped open, pupils wide. “...And there’s something cold and angry and very, very dangerous here. To the south.”

Teraia nodded. “And that is why we’re here, son. It’s a temple. Or a shrine, I’m not sure which. It doesn’t matter. It’s filled with the Dark Side of the Force, and once we find it, we’ll destroy it down to the last stone.”

Domthus chewed on his lower lip. “I’m suddenly very glad I’m with the infamous BrightWatch. This place might _look_ safe, but it’s not, is it? Not at all.”

A shadow fell over them. “Nope.”

Domthus and Teraia both looked up and were met with a smirking face. “So much for your ‘brooding and dreary equals dangerous’ theory, eh?”

Teraia rose to her feet and swept her arm up to her chest in a casual Argazdan salute. “Sivin – I mean, Commander Ikalruq, how went the reconnaissance?”

He shrugged off the salute and waved her back to her seat. “Oh, when have you ever bothered with protocol, Tersie?” He plunked down between her and Domthus, stretching and cracking his bones. “Eh, it went okay. The shrine’s still a ways off, and as far as I can tell the Sith haven’t maintained a presence here other than whatever safeguards they’ve had in place for who knows how long. So unless we’ve been followed, we shouldn’t have too much to worry about. I mean. Other than impending death via booby trap or Sithspawned beasts, that is.”

Domthus twitched, partly in excitement and partly in apprehension. “Sithspawn? You’re expecting Sithspawn here?”

The commander turned to the young Jedi and looked him up and down. “You’re the new guy, aren’t you? Did nobody brief you, or...”

Domthus shook his head, suddenly flustered. “No, I mean – yes, they briefed me, but no one mentioned Sithspawn, other than the warning that goes with every operation that ventures into Sith-held space.”

“That warning’s there for a reason, new guy. So unless you want to be battle hydra fodder or the newest chew toy for a tuk’ata, I’d pay a little closer attention to those warnings.” He clapped Domthus on his back. “But you’ll do fine! Just throw ‘em a stick, they like to play fetch.”

Teraia shook her head and reached across behind Sivin to pat Domthus on the shoulder. “You’ll have to forgive Sivin’s sense of humor, Domthus. He’s a little cynical about these things and it shows in decidedly odd ways.”

Domthus offered his hand to Sivin. “I’m honored though, sir! I mean – I knew you were leading this operation, but you were at the back of the ship when we were on route, and – well you’re famous, sir. Infamous. Everybody back home talks about all the good work you’re doing.”

Sivin scratched the back of his head. “Eh? And where’s home, the Jedi Temple? I really do have to tell them to scale the PR back a bit. This is getting ridiculous.” But he took Domthus’s offered hand and shook it. “So are you Tersie’s Padawan? Haven’t seen you around.”

“No sir, I – well I _was_ Master Hukartl’s Padawan, but I had my trials last year.” He gestured over to the Harch Jedi assisting Callior with the setup of a tent. “Master Hukartl thought it would be a good opportunity for me to join BrightWatch, and since they’d already been active in the operation for so many years before they took me on, they thought they’d be able to give me a good introduction. Even though I… don’t really have any experience with this kind of thing. But they tell me I show a lot of promise.”

“Huh.” Sivin shrugged. “Yeah well, don’t let it get to your pretty little horned head. And try not to die on your first real run. Bodies are _such_ a pain to transport all the way back to Coruscant, and the paperwork is a _nightmare_.”

Domthus blinked, taken aback. “I’ll… try to remember that, sir.”

“Sivin is _joking_ , Domthus.” Teraia shot a glare at her commander. “He just tends to be hard on Padawans and freshly-minted Jedi Knights. It’s just what he does.”

A couple of other Jedi made their way over to where the three of them sat, the Nikto of the pair patting Domthus’s arm as they sat down across from him. “Couldn’t but overhear Sivin’s ribbing, but don’t you worry kiddo, he does it to everybody.”

The Volpai with them let out a hearty laugh. “Ya know, I haven’t been with BrightWatch all that long either, but at least I’d been a Knight for a few decades before havin’ the guts to join. Not ‘cause I was afraid of bein’ out on the edges of Sith space, but ‘cause I was worried ol’ Siv would have somethin’ to say ‘bout it.” She leaned back and lit a pipe. “Turns out I got nothin’ to worry ‘bout. He’s actually a pretty nice guy. Just don’ tell him to his face.” She winked at Sivin, who just rolled his eyes.

“I’m _right here_ , you know, Gi’rel.” He swiped her pipe and took a drag before letting her have it again. “Besides, aren’t there enough other options for the Jedi Order to occupy newbies with, without them getting in my way? BrightWatch is famous galaxy-wide for _destroying Sith temples_ , not...” he waved a hand in the air, “ _babysitting_ gigs.”

Callior slithered up to the group, smirk on his face and a cord of firewood in his arms. “Do I still qualify as a babysitting gig? I mean, I’ve only been with BrightWatch a year, and I only earned knighthood the year before that.”

Sivin snorted, his grin wide. Gi’rel passed her pipe back to him and gestured with one of her four hands at Callior. “He probably still thinks of you as a Padawan. I take back what I said about him bein’ a nice guy. Careful now, he’ll chew you up an’ spit you out.”

Callior curled his tail around himself and settled into the coils. “Yes, yes, so I’ve heard. Why always so hard on the new guys, Commander?”

Sivin leveled a finger at Callior with a playful glint in his eyes. “You’re already famous for killing Sith even as a youngling, Cal. But you’re running with the Big Beings now. Nobody gets into BrightWatch without having something impressive already under their belt, but you’re still a small fry. _Somebody’s_ gotta put all these fresh faces with delusions of grandeur in their place. This isn’t anywhere a Padawan or a brand-new Jedi Knight should be.” He looked over at Domthus and tossed him a wink.

Callior laughed and shook his head. “No wonder you don’t have a Padawan yourself. Maybe the Council won’t give you one because they know you’d be so mean.”

The whole circle of Jedi got unusually quiet, and the playful gleam in Sivin’s eyes faded abruptly.

Domthus looked from one Jedi to another, and he found Callior doing the same. But Gi’rel broke the awkward silence with a gentle smack to the back of Callior’s head crest. “Shut _up_ , Cal. Don’t remind him of that – can’t you remember it bein’ all over the holonet news?”

“Ow – wait, what? What are you talking about?” Callior rubbed the back of his crest and was just about to ask again what she meant when Sivin got up and brushed himself off.

“Eh, don’t worry about it. You probably got it about right anyway, I definitely don’t need to be put on any _babysitting_ duty. Way too many actually important things to do.” He pulled a face. “Hey, has anyone checked that south ridge since we started making camp? If anything that’s where an attack would come from, it’s a pretty convenient route from here to that shrine.” He ambled off without waiting for comment, leaving the rest of the Jedi to sit in vaguely uncomfortable awkwardness.

Domthus was the first to say something. “...What just happened?”

“I’m wondering the same thing myself,” Callior muttered.

Gi’rel slumped back in her seat, tapping the ashes of her pipe on the ground. “Look, Cal, I know yer still relatively new and ya came from a pretty backwater colony, but Sivin’s not just famous fer bein’ a badass at obliteratin’ Sith temples and what-all. He’s kinda famous fer losin’ people too. A Padawan included.”

Callior’s jaw dropped. “Aw, kriffing hell. I should go apologize –”

Gi’rel placed a couple of her hands on Callior’s shoulder to keep him from getting up. “Naw. He’ll be fine, just don’t mention it again ‘round him an’ you’ll be alright. He won’t hold it against ya.”

They fell into silence again. The pink and orange sky was deepening, decorating the hilly landscape around them in brilliant colours as the sun began to set. Teraia shifted from her place by Domthus as she used the Force to pile the wood Callior had gathered into a pyramid. She lit it with a flick of her wrist before settling back down beside him, and let out a sigh. “Some things are just hard to let go of, even for a Jedi Knight. And Sivin does a remarkable job of it, but sometimes even he has trouble.”

Domthus couldn’t stand it anymore. “So… What happened?”

Teraia gave him a weak smile and curled her arm around his shoulders. “Sivin had a Padawan, once. Years ago, when BrightWatch was still just an idea. I had known Sivin then, but not very well. I knew that he had lost his own Master just after his trials, by a group of Sith that nearly killed him too. When the time came, taking on a Padawan made him think a lot about his responsibilities and how much risk they would be under, so he chose carefully. And trained them carefully. But less than a year later, it didn’t end up mattering.”

Domthus flinched. He knew where this was going, and he already felt terrible for his commander.

Teraia flicked a stone into the fire as twilight slowly deepened around them. “The Sith take and take and _take_ from us, and no matter how much we take from _them_ they still come back, harder and stronger than the last time. Sivin knew this then, and he knows it even better now. He and his Padawan and the entire reconnaissance group he was with were ambushed. He lost them all, every single one of them, violently. _Gruesomely_ , if the official report and the holonet stories were any indication.”

“That ain’t all he’s lost, either,” Gi’rel added as she refilled her pipe. “He was older when the Jedi found him, ya know. Four years old an’ alone on a dyin’ colony world.”

Teraia nodded. “Old enough to remember his family, and old enough for it to hold a shadow over his memories of what happened to them. He doesn’t talk about it – and the Council has cautioned any of us that have worked closely with him for long enough, that no one should press him about it. I don’t think it appropriate that we should be discussing it amongst ourselves, either.”

“A’course, Tersie. I won’t say nothin’ more ‘bout it.” She passed her pipe around the circle for anyone who might want it. “In any event, I’m hopin’ that maybe this go-round, things can go a lil’ smoother than usual. We’ve had a rough time of it the last few missions, but it’s still nothin’ we can’t handle.”

She got a round of nods and murmurs of acknowledgement, and the conversation slowly steered itself in other directions. Hukartl swapped their watch with Callior, and they took his place around the fire. They flashed a fanged smile at Domthus before engaging Gi’rel in a quiet recap of their mission, and Domthus settled back against Teraia. He rested his head on her shoulder, careful not to snag his horns in her hair. “Sivin’s been gone a while, is he going to be okay? I know this place is pretty much abandoned, but what if there _are_ Sith out there?”

He felt Teraia shift beside him. “If there is anyone in this little group that can survive anything thrown at them, it would be Sivin. He’ll be fine, don’t you worry about him.”

Domthus nodded, thoughts still lingering on the stories he had just heard, of Sivin’s bad luck with losing people. Of how whenever he had lost someone, it had been on missions very much like this one. He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, letting the Force around him wash over him in waves and soothe any nerves and apprehensions he was having. The conversation around him slowly faded as the other Jedi settled in and finished making camp. They had a long day ahead of them tomorrow, and Domthus’s watch was in about two hours. He stretched his toes out towards the fire, letting his apprehensions drain away as twilight drifted slowly and inexorably into night.

 

  ***********************************

 

The Jedi were not alone, and they were being watched.

On a ridge to the west, a trio of Sith looked down with macrobinoculars at the handful of Jedi Knights as they settled in for the night. The smallest of them shifted uneasily from her spot on the rock. “Where did the Nautolan go?”

Her companion to her left pressed his binocs to his upper pair of eyes and scanned further to the south, catching the tell-tale movement of underbrush as the wandering Jedi passed by. “The Feeorin?”

She frowned, her ears twitching. “What?”

He passed the binocs to her and indicated the spot Sivin had just been at. “He’s there, over by the copse of trees next to a patch of ferns. And Feeorin, not Nautolan. That is like mistaking me for a Trandoshan.”

“Whatever.” She took the binocs and peered into them, making a mental note of how fast – or rather, how _slow_ – their quarry was moving. “And where does he think he’s going?”

Her comrade shrugged, rolling his shoulders to get the muscles to stretch. “I sincerely doubt he is going anywhere in particular. Since we can see their faces even from here, it is a fairly simple thing to deduce the mood of these Jedi. Judging from how quickly that merry little group turned sour just as he left them, I am assuming someone there must have said something that upset him. My best estimate is that he is simply walking it off. So to speak.”

“Yeah, right. I thought the Jedi didn’t get upset.”

The Sith to their right snorted softly through the vocoder in their helmet and shook their head. <You have much to learn about Jedi, apprentice. And you must learn to address Lord Belus with respect.>

She barely refrained from rolling her eyes. “ _Apologies,_ Master Erion. But he doesn’t seem to mind. And besides, I can’t learn much more about Jedi except through _experience_. That’s why I’m here, aren’t I?”

Erion made a gurgling sound through their mask that might have meant displeasure, but Belus chuckled. “Let her be, Erion. Astele will make a fine Darth one day, and it will not be because she focused on her manners.”

Another gurgle from Erion, and their nasal Ubese voice sounded particularly annoyed. <But it will _also_ not be because she paid attention when given information about our targets. >

Astele gave in to the temptation to roll her eyes. “Alright then, fine. Give me information. What do I need to know about these Jedi? You said they were a special unit or something.”

Erion gestured to their companion, and Belus took the lead in the conversation. “Yes. BrightWatch. They specialize in the location and destruction of Sith temples and artifacts, and seem to delight in causing as much mayhem as possible whenever they discover a target. They are led by our Feeorin Jedi down there, who is still wandering around away from the others. His name is Sivin Ikalruq.”

“I think I’ve actually heard of him.”

Belus nodded. “Quite likely. He has turned into somewhat of a celebrity among the Jedi and their supporters. Not just for his successes, which have been substantial, but for his rather spectacular losses as well.”

Astele’s ears shot up. “Really. That’s a new one. What happened?”

“Well, just before he formed BrightWatch he had taken on an apprentice, and set out on some sort of supposedly clandestine reconnaissance mission with that apprentice and about half a dozen other Jedi. We – well not me personally, but the Sith Empire – discovered what the Jedi were up to, and we went in and wiped them out. If I remember correctly, we used battle hydras to route them, and from the reports it seems as though Ikalruq watched his new apprentice get ripped apart by a battle hydra’s heads fighting over the body. The same reports say that he tried to fight back, but the hydras nearly killed him too. He is the only one that managed to escape.”

“Pity he did.” Astele pressed the macrobinoculars again to her face as she tracked the movements of the aimlessly wandering Jedi in the distance below them. “You’d think he’d lay off a little after that. Or just quit entirely. Become a datapad-pusher at a desk for a Jedi library somewhere, or just… I don’t know, just go home.”

“Jedi do not have homes, Astele. Usually they are taken in infancy by the Jedi Order, they normally never know the home they had before they were inducted. Although I suppose our famous Feeorin down there is a rare exception.” Belus gently took the binocs away from her and tucked them back in his pack. “We should get back to the others, tell them what we found.” He gestured for the two other Sith to follow him, and he started to pick his way carefully down the steep ridge they had been lingering on.

Astele jumped to keep up. “What do you mean though, he’s an exception?”

“Well, from what my sources have managed to find, he was from a colony world that was ravaged first by disease, and then by famine. By the time we got to it and invaded, there wasn’t much even _left_.” He skidded down the loose till before landing on another outcrop lower down, and paused to watch his companions make the same slide. “We gained a key position for launching a different attack on another world, but there was nothing really remaining of the colony itself, aside from a few rusted weapons and some crumbling buildings. And a four-year-old Force-sensitive Feeorin boy.”

“Don’t they screen Republic kids for that?”

Belus nodded. “Of course. If they are part of the Republic. The Feeorins are a pretty divided species, and not all of their colony worlds ended up joining. My estimate is that Ikalruq’s was one that did not. But in any event, when the Jedi arrived at the colony to try and drive us off, we had already left.” He sighed. “Holonet news is _made_ for this kind of thing. Highlighting the plight of some orphaned child as the only survivor of a dead world thrice-ravaged, and once they got a hold of the fact that he could use the Force… well, let me just say I am sure the Jedi Council was under a lot of pressure from their own government to take him in.”

Belus jumped from one boulder to another, extending his hands to catch hold of Astele and Erion as they followed. Astele scrutinized him as he helped her down the side of the rock. “You seem to know an awful lot about this guy.”

Belus flashed her a grin full of pointed teeth. “ _‘Know thy enemy’_. I could tell you just as much about each of the other Jedi in BrightWatch, and probably half the Jedi lurking about in this sector. It is a useful hobby to have.”

“Darth Belus: Dark Lord of the Sith, blademaster, Keeper of the Key of An-Drend, master of tuk’ata, and Jedi-gossip enthusiast. _Very_ impressive.”

Erion gripped her shoulder. < _Apprentice!_ >

“Her attitude does not trouble me, Erion.” Belus waved them off with a flip of his claws. “It does not concern or offend me when you offer your sarcasm, Astele, as long as you can understand the potential usefulness of such information.”

She shrugged. “Sure, I guess. But I don’t think it’s going to matter much by tomorrow, considering all those Jedi down there will be dead.”

Belus just quirked a scaled eyebrow at her. “Do not get ahead of yourself, little one. As satisfying as killing Jedi can be, I doubt we can know all of their fates prematurely.”

“Why?” She laughed. “Do you think you can turn one of them to the Dark Side instead? Maybe that Feeorin you know so much about? That’s the only other way out that I can see.”

Belus shook his head, snorting in derision. “Unlikely. Every member of BrightWatch is devoted to the Light Side of the Force, through and through. Experienced with pain and suffering he may be, but Ikalruq is just as naive as the rest of them, and is probably incapable of even considering the thought. Any potential he might once have had has been drained out of him by the Jedi Order a long time ago.” He gestured to the vague trail ahead of them. “Another few kilometers and we should arrive back at the ship, and we can report to the others. I suggest we increase our pace now that the ground is level. We still don’t know what, if anything, our antisocial ancestor left to guard her shrine, and I would hate to find out without being prepared.”

Astele’s ears flattened against her head as she glanced around them and edged a little closer to her Master, suddenly uneasy. The gentle breeze through the trees and the shadows on the rocks were a little more menacing than they had been a minute ago, and it filled her both with a thrill and a spike of fear. “I guess we better hurry then. Don’t want to keep anyone waiting.”


	2. In Which More Introductions Are Made Under Somewhat Alarming And Unfortunate Circumstances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of people die very quickly, but one of them receives a very unlikely rescue.

Sivin picked his way delicately through the underbrush scattered across the sparse forest, idly running his hand through the grass and wildflowers as he passed. Once he was up and moving around it was much easier to find that inner core of serenity that centered himself, and the twinge of anger and regret that had surfaced over Callior’s careless words began to fade. This kind of pain never went completely away – he knew some things could never be banished from memory or experience, no matter how often the Code was recited or how deep the meditation was. At least old pain could be more easily ignored, and the memory of it faded much more quickly. Sivin counted himself fortunate that it had been decades since the incident Callior had brought up.

A rustling from the trail behind him made him freeze, and he stretched out with the Force as he slowly turned around, tensing a little in preparation for fight or flight.

“Commander Ikalruq? It’s Domthus.” The young Elomin that had been beside Teraia all evening cautiously lingered on the trail a few meters back.

Sivin relaxed. “Oh. Just you. Sorry, I hadn’t even asked your name earlier. And don’t – it’s just Sivin. Siv. Or whatever. Nobody but stuffy Council members call me Ikalruq. What are you doing out here?”

Domthus closed the distance between them and shoved his hands in his pockets. “My watch ends in just a few minutes, and Stennis has already taken my spot. So I came to find you. You’ve been gone a long time.”

“Worried about me, eh?” Sivin scratched at the back of his head and flicked a stray tendril back over his shoulder. “I never went far. I’m not even more than half a click away from the camp. I can take care of myself pretty well, you know.”

“I wasn’t… Well I wasn’t really worried about _that_ , just…” He shifted from foot to foot. “I don’t know, you seemed upset. And I don’t think people should be alone when they’re upset, it doesn’t seem right.”

Sivin cracked a smile. “Eh, I guess _s_ _ometimes_ being alone helps, but I just needed to walk it off. And you shouldn’t have wandered outside camp alone, new guy. Domthus. That ‘mth’ is really hard to pronounce, does anyone just call you Dom?”

He allowed himself a short laugh. “Just about everyone, back at the Temple. I’m sorry I assumed, I can leave you alone again if you want –”

“Naw, it’s fine.” Sivin waved away his concern. “I’m not really one to linger on long-past issues.”

“…Even if they still hurt?”

Sivin gazed silently at Dom for a long moment before sighing and finding a log to sit down on. He motioned for Dom to sit next to him. “...Some things will always hurt. Maybe not as much, but they still hurt. It sucks, it’s not what they teach you at temple, it’s not what they tell you to expect, but it is what it is. Scholar life and real life rarely coincide.”

Dom slowly nodded. “Does… anything make it better? Make it easier?”

“Sure, of course. Different things for different people, I suppose. Me, I just focus on other things until I don’t think about it too much anymore. I go for a walk, if there's nothing else to do. But busier is better. I destroy Sith artifacts. I destroy Sith temples. I kill Sith. I keep busy.”

“Doesn’t that...” Dom frowned.

Sivin nudged him on the shoulder. “Doesn’t that what?”

Dom dropped his head to stare at the ground. “Doesn’t killing them make you more susceptible to the Dark Side? I mean… I get pretty confused by some of the things the Order and the Council tell us. Sometimes we’re supposed to hate the Sith and other times hate leads to the Dark Side.”

“Ah. That.” Sivin shrugged. “I don’t really know what to tell you about official policy on that one, kiddo. I can only tell you about me personally. And… well, despite how devoted to this job I am, I can’t really say that I _hate_ them.”

Dom’s head shot up to stare at him. “Really? Even after all they’ve done to you? After losing all those people?”

Dom flinched when he saw a pained look cross Sivin’s face again, but Sivin just ran a hand through his tendrils and patted Dom on the back. “They’re just… doing what they do, Dom. How up for a short lecture are you?”

“I want to hear anything you can tell me.”

Sivin nodded. “Alright then… Sith are violent and devastating and they destroy everything they touch. That’s their nature. Ask anyone on the Council and they’ll give you thousands of years worth of history to that effect. I don’t understand Sith, I don’t think _anybody_ understands Sith except other Sith, but the Jedi Order has been fighting them for all those thousands of years already and the Jedi have been a beacon for the Light Side of the Force and for the Republic all this time.”

He gestured up at the sky, in the vague direction of the Core Worlds. “Everyone on the Council will tell you that the Sith need to be destroyed. And I’m sure lots of Jedi hate them. But sitting around and hating them won’t get _me_ anywhere. But what I _am_ going to do is fight them. It’s my _job._ To keep them from gaining more power. So that’s what I do, by destroying their temples and their artifacts and whatever else they use to gather up more power. They don’t give ground to us, but we don’t give ground to them either. It’s not pretty and it probably isn’t the best way, but it’s the only way I’ve been taught and the only way I know.”

Dom nodded slowly and blew out a sigh. “I wish I understood more than I do. Maybe I should have stuck around the Jedi Temple longer.”

Sivin laughed. “The more philosophy you study back at temple, the less you’ll understand. That’s just what philosophy does.”

That got a smile out of Dom, but before he could respond, the shrill keening of an eerie animal call pierced the still night air. Sivin grabbed Dom by his arm and froze, listening intently.

The cry came again, only this time accompanied by the skittering sound of many feet in the distance, back towards the direction of their camp. Sudden screams assaulted their ears, and both Dom and Sivin shot to their feet as they launched themselves with as much speed as they could muster back towards their companions. They tore through the forest, using the Force to propel their steps as they ran. In mere moments their camp came into view, but before Dom could rush ahead to aid their comrades, Sivin grabbed him hard by his wrist and yanked him to a stop in the shadow of a boulder. He shook his head and fixed Dom with a hard stare before turning his gaze back to the camp just within view.

Before them was raw carnage. The bodies of what once had been Callior and Teraia lay in gory pieces in the bloodied grass, and a distinctive yellow pool of what could only be Harch fluid lay thickening on the ground, oozing from an outcrop just out of sight. Stennis lay not far beyond, his broken body crumpled at the base of a tree, hands still gripping his lightsaber.

And the source of the carnage loomed large and shrieking, further ahead. Half a dozen massive reptiles that seemed to be made entirely of spikes, claws, and teeth were tearing their way through the camp, the Dark Side roiling around them and through them like stormclouds in a hurricane. One of them lay dead near the rocks beside what had been a tent, and two of the surviving lizards were nearly smoking from the gashes they had received from burning lightsaber blades. As the Jedi watched, two of the lizards flushed the last of their prey from her hiding place. Gi’rel stumbled backwards as the creatures routed her, four lightsabers casting vivid blue light against their scales. She managed to down the first of her attackers with a well-placed stab using two of her blades, straight into the beast’s eyes. But the second one was too fast. Gi’rel only managed a few blows against the tough armored skin before its gaping maw came crashing down around her, crushing her in an instant.

Sivin’s grip on Dom’s arm tightened, and he pulled him back from the sight. “Hssiss. Dom, we have to run. And we have to run _now_.” He shoved him with astonishing force, propelling him back the way they had come. Dom miraculously found his feet, and Sivin again pushed him forward. “ _Run!_ ”

They tore through the woods back the way they had come, leg muscles straining and breath heaving. The Force aided their stride, but one of the hssiss had noticed their hasty retreat and was hot in pursuit.

But Dom’s legs were far shorter than Sivin’s, and it didn’t take him long before he stumbled and fell behind. Sivin skidded to a halt, drawing his lightsaber as he turned back to aid his fallen companion.

But just as he turned, he saw the hssiss loom large over Dom, mouth agape as it crashed down on top of him. He heard Dom give a single weak cry, and Sivin could see the hssiss snap and tear at the underbrush around them. Dom had vanished from sight, either trampled to death or already swallowed up by the creature’s massive jaws.

Sivin bit back a curse and turned again to flee. This time the hssiss seemed distracted, and didn’t pursue. But Sivin still rushed ahead, trying to put as much distance between them as he could. His legs and lungs burned from the effort, but still he pressed on. Their drop point had been much further to the north, and it wouldn’t be until the following evening that their ship would return to pick them up. He would have to make a wide circle back around, but all he cared about right now was getting as far away from the hssiss as he was able.

But luck was not on his side. Up ahead, the jarring sounds of more screaming and the clashing of lightsabers drew his attention. He emerged from the trees and onto the edge of a clearing beside a sharp ridge, and there before him was another scene of carnage almost identical to the one he had just fled from. At least three bodies were already on the ground, although it was difficult to tell just how many there had been before the hssiss had gotten a hold of them. The remains of their encampment were scattered all around them, and three hssiss were at the edge of it, their mouths all latched onto one limb or another of a very unfortunate Ubese. A child… no, a person of some smaller species Sivin didn’t immediately recognize, was at the foot of one of the hssiss, screaming and lunging at it with wild strokes of a red-bladed lightsaber. But against the armored scales on their legs, her blows had precious little effect. The lizards ignored her, and with a final, blood-curling scream from the Ubese in their mouths, they tore the body limb from limb and flung it far into the trees.

The tiny Sith at their feet finally drew the attention of the hssiss, but before they could pounce on their new victim a blur of two crimson-orange blades came whirling in front of her, wielded by the largest Trandoshan Sivin had ever seen. Sivin heard this new Sith yell “Get down!” at the little one, his blows coming so fast and hard against the hssiss he could barely follow them with his eyes. One of the massive lizards tried to come at the Sith with his jaws agape, but getting its head too close was its first and only mistake. Thrusting one of his fiery blades up through the yawning mouth, the Sith pierced the hssiss’s brain from the inside, twisting his blade on the way out to cleave its skull open.

But the smaller Sith he had been protecting was not nearly as fast or as lucky as he. One of the other hssiss saw its opening, and lunged for her while her companion was distracted. It swallowed her whole and promptly turned on the other Sith.

Sivin could see the rage in the other Sith’s four eyes. ...Four eyes? Not a Trandoshan, then. But it didn’t matter – both of the remaining hssiss were caught in a sudden swirl of dust and debris, conjured from the Force by the Sith. The whirlwind shoved them unceremoniously back, knocking one of them hard against the rocks behind them. They scattered, both retreating over the ridge to leave the Sith alone amidst the destruction of his camp.

Sivin could see the Sith’s chest heaving from the battle. He wiped blood off of his forehead and out of his upper eyes, cursing quietly to himself in what must have been his native tongue. He turned in a slow circle to survey the damage, but suddenly looked up and straight at Sivin. And froze.

Sivin activated his own lightsaber again, the blue-green light illuminating his hiding place. Adrenaline once again surged through his veins. “Sith.”

“Jedi.” He swept up one of his red-orange blades in a salute. “Sivin Ikalruq. I know you. Creator of BrightWatch. Great iconoclast of Sith artifacts. An orphan who keeps losing those he holds dear.”

Sivin blinked once in surprise, but shrugged. “Spend long enough cleaning up the gutters of the galaxy and I guess the scum floating around inside get to know your name.” He advanced a few steps, eyes flicking from the Sith’s face to his blades, keeping track of every movement he made. “No fair that you know my name and I don’t know yours, though.”

“Pity that life is hardly fair, Jedi.” The Sith approached as well, close enough to lightly touch one of his lightsabers against Sivin’s. The blades crackled as they met, throwing a flash of colour. “Adrestin Tsir. Darth Belus.”

Sivin pressed his weight against their juxtaposed blades, testing the huge reptilian’s strength. “A Darth, eh? They just hand those titles out to just about any Sith nowadays, don’t they?”

Sivin saw a glint in one of Belus’s eyes. “Some of us have earned them.”

With a hard press into Belus’s lightsaber, Sivin pushed him back and came round to strike a hard, quick blow that was blocked by Belus’s second blade. Sivin grinned. “We’ll see about that.”

Lightning-fast, Belus crossed his second blade with his first and shoved Sivin away, nearly knocking him to the ground. “You are tired, and off-balance. Did the hssiss invade your camp as well, Jedi? How many did you lose?”

Sivin narrowed his eyes briefly before slipping back into neutral. “You can’t egg me on, Sith. I am a Jedi, and I do not allow regret and grief to cloud my judgment. ‘ _There is no emotion, there is peace’_.” He brought his lightsaber again to bear against his opponent, the _crackle-hiss_ of the meeting blades echoing in the clearing.

“Mere platitude. You are truly naive if you honestly try to tell yourself that.” Belus again shoved Sivin back without any real effort, this time accompanying the push with the Force to knock Sivin completely clear of his lightsabers.

Sivin nearly stumbled as he was pushed back, but he caught himself before he could fall. “Are you trying to go easy on me, Sith? _Fight_ me.”

Belus opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything the hulking body of a hssiss thrashed through the trees beside them, bearing down on them in a flash of scales and teeth. Both Sith and Jedi turned to face the massive lizard, but it zeroed in on Sivin first. Lowering its horned head like a battering ram, it plowed straight into Sivin and knocked him into the air, sending him flying nearly twenty meters away before he landed with a _thump_ flat on his back. The hssiss was on him in seconds, pawing at him with long claws and snapping at his face with a mouth full of razor teeth.

Sivin brought his lightsaber up to land a few blows against the hssiss pinning him down, but one overextension left his arm exposed. The hssiss took the opening and grabbed a hold of his arm, sinking its teeth deep to the bone. Sivin gasped at the pain and tried not to struggle against the hold for fear of the creature tearing his arm off.

A brilliant fiery blade suddenly pierced the side of the giant lizard’s head, slicing sideways and away so quickly it cleaved the top of the hssiss’s head clean off. The pressure on Sivin’s arm went slack, and he yanked it out of the dead beast’s lolling mouth. He lay there panting for a long moment, eyes wide as he stared at the smoldering carcass. His gaze slowly crept up to the Sith standing over him, both lightsabers still drawn and held down at his sides.

Sivin managed a weak smile. “That’s no way to treat your relatives, you know. Particularly when all they’re trying to do is save you the trouble of –”

He stopped himself, realization slowly dawning. “...Wait. Did you… Did you just save my life?”

“...Yes?” Belus sheathed one of his blades and brushed at the blood spatter on his clothes.

“Why?”

The Sith just quirked a scaly eyebrow at him. “Do you mean to tell me that a Jedi cannot recognize the banalities they themselves preach? It is a simple kindness, nothing more.”

Sivin frowned. “That’s rich. I was taught all my life that Sith believed kindness was a weakness.”

“Well, yes.” Belus deactivated the last of his lightsabers and slipped it back into its hilt at his hip. “Kindness obscures the true violent and cold nature of the universe, and does one a disservice by making one believe platitudes such as mercy or pity are staples that can be expected. Particularly when in reality, such weakness will only be exploited to further one’s destruction.”

It was Sivin’s turn to raise an eyebrow at the flood of words. “...Then why show me a kindness?”

Belus sighed. “Because you already _know_ all of that. You are forgetting – I know you. You have already been brutally exposed to the true nature of the universe, and survived that test. Repeatedly. It is not a lesson you are likely to forget. One kindness will not negate that lesson. Nor lead you to believe you can expect the universe to treat you fairly.” He leaned down and extended a hand. “I said you are naive, not stupid.”

Sivin eyeballed the proffered hand suspiciously.

Belus made a little _gurgle-click_ sound in the back of his throat, and Sivin assumed it meant irritation. He flicked his clawed fingers towards himself, beckoning. “In all likelihood, there is more than just one other hssiss out there. And I am unsure if they are even the only Sithspawn lurking about around here. I’d rather get somewhere a little more secure for the rest of the night, or just simply quit this planet entirely. And I’m sure that you would agree.”

Sivin hesitated for a moment longer, but carefully took his hand. “You know, you talk a lot.”

Belus pulled him to his feet and steadied him, making sure he had his balance before he released his hand. “So I have been told. The ship we – the ship _I_ came in is not far, just beyond that patch of trees. Shall we?”

“You first.”

“Together then.”

They walked side by side in awkward silence, Sith and Jedi, both making sidelong glances at the other as they went. It did not take long to skirt the grove of trees, and soon a sleek, matte brown-maroon ship came into view. Sivin didn’t know the make of it, but before he could pause to scrutinize it in closer detail the _scratching, skittering_ sound of many clawed feet on heavy scaled legs came from behind them, back where they had just come from. Both Sivin and Belus looked at each other, eyes wide, before they broke out into a run. They covered the last few dozen meters to the ship in record time, tearing up the boarding ramp and slamming the switch to open the entry door.

Belus charged in ahead of Sivin, making a bee-line for the cockpit to start the takeoff cycle. Sivin made it just inside the doorway and then spun around to slap shut the door behind him before following Belus. Even before Sivin got to the cockpit Belus had already launched the ship skyward, and as Sivin came up to peer round through the viewport he could see half a dozen hssiss on the ground, circling underneath the ship as it slowly skirted the tops of the trees and rose into the sky. Off near the horizon, the starlight illuminated the steep, smooth sides of a monument, rimmed red around its borders and crawling with more Sithspawn.

“Well, so much for _that_ mission.” Sivin sighed and cautiously eased himself into the copilot’s seat, risking a sidelong glance at Belus as he did so.

Belus shrugged, well aware of the eyes on him. “There is not much there, anyway. Aside from all of the precautions against visitors who might come calling, that is. Just another long-dead antisocial Sith Lord and her musty tomb.”

Sivin smirked. “Must be great knowing what you have to look forward to.”

That got him a roll of all four eyes. “Not for me, no. I intend on dying somewhere that no one will ever find the body. If there will even be a body left to be found. No tomb and no burial for me.” He eased the ship into a low orbit and set it on autopilot before getting up and moving to the threshold of the cockpit. He paused and turned to Sivin, gesturing at his still-bleeding arm. “How about we get that taken care of?”

Sivin followed him into the common area, and Belus indicated the seat by the built-in dejarik table. “Sit down, let’s have a look.” He held out his hand.

Sivin slowly gave him his arm. It felt like it was on fire. “I really shouldn’t trust you anywhere near me, you know.”

“And I really shouldn’t have allowed you on my ship.”

“Point taken.”

Belus gently pulled Sivin’s arm closer as he inspected the puncture wounds, several of them already growing dark and swollen around the edges and filling with discharge. He frowned. “Would you have a problem with me using the Force to heal you?”

“Why would that be a problem?”

“Well, since the Jedi seem to think it’s a Dark Side technique...”

Sivin made a face. “I’ll just take the standard medkit approach. If you have one. Why do you want to use some Dark Side healing thing instead, you hoping it’ll infect me?”

Belus shrugged, shaking his head. “The Dark Side won’t infect you, Jedi, but the poison from the hssiss’s mouth _will_. Sithspawn are almost by default venomous, and the only known antidote that is even remotely effective is the Force.”

He reached his free hand towards Sivin, who jerked back. “What are you –”

“Checking for fever.”

Sivin reluctantly allowed Belus to place his hand on his forehead, wondering if he even knew the standard running temperature of a Feeorin. Belus tilted the Jedi’s head slightly to the side, gently pressing up over his brows to check the sclerae of his eyes. “Your pupils are already dilated.” A forked tongue flicked from Belus’s mouth and he tasted the air to check his heat signature. “And you’re running hot. I can use a medkit, but I don’t know how practical it would be to –”

“Oh just use your Dark Side technique, already.” Sivin was already beginning to feel dizzy and disoriented, and the burning pain from his arm was getting harder and harder to ignore.

Belus nodded and slipped onto the seat next to Sivin. He curled his fingers around the wound, and a cold, soft blue glow enveloped Sivin’s arm. It tingled like ice, and Sivin had to resist the urge to snatch his arm away. It took the better part of ten or fifteen minutes for Belus to heal him, and every few moments one or another of them would sneak a glance up at the other’s face, trying to gauge each other’s reaction. But eventually the blue glow faded, and Belus lightly ran a clawed finger over the mostly-restored skin. “It will leave some scarring.”

Sivin shrugged it off. “Already have plenty of those. What’s a few more scars, eh?”

Belus smiled faintly, his voice quiet when he spoke. “...Indeed.”

The awkward silence around them was practically palpable. Sivin shifted uncomfortably where he was, and Belus released his arm. The Sith got up and stretched to crack the bones in his shoulders, and Sivin could sense in the Force the weariness and pain of the recent losses he had suffered weighing down upon him. And the anger. The outwardly-calm Sith Lord in front of him was practically boiling rage through the Force, and Sivin cursed himself for not paying closer attention… And yet, he noted with surprise, the anger was directed nowhere towards himself or even the Jedi in general. He couldn’t quite place it, but…

Belus noticed him staring and raised a scaly eyebrow, but said nothing. He turned and made his way back to the cockpit. Sivin followed with caution and lingered at the threshold rather than take a seat.

Belus had slid into the pilot’s seat and eased the ship back towards the planet below, guiding them just inside the atmosphere and low enough that Sivin could see the hazy red outline of the Sith shrine below them. Belus centered it in his sights and with a rapid press of the controls, fired down upon it with both lasers and proton torpedoes. A mushroom cloud of superheated air and debris rose from the ground, and as they watched the dust cleared to reveal the bodies of many dead and broken hssiss, but the shrine itself appeared almost untouched.

Sivin was about to make a comment that if it were that easy his team would had done so from orbit without bothering to set foot on the ground, but before he opened his mouth Belus had risen from his seat. He stood in front of the viewport, his arms outstretched and all eyes narrowed to slits. The fiery red of the Sith corruption in his irises made them glow, and Sivin could feel the anger, the hatred, the pain Belus was holding within him. The Dark Side coiled about him like a gathering storm, cold and visceral and threatening to break at the slightest disturbance. Sivin shivered and put more of the door between him and the Sith.

But Belus’s focus was nowhere near the Jedi. As he concentrated, the atmosphere of the planet below them seemed to contract, then thicken and swirl as clouds clashed together and winds whipped into a frenzy. Lightning flashed in blue arcs between the clouds and struck the ground, and even though they were above the cloud line Sivin could feel the ship shudder around them and heard the eerie roar of the gathering storm.

Belus had stopped breathing. Tears of blood trickled from his lower pair of eyes, and Sivin could see the pull of every muscle as he strained his concentration to its fullest extent.

Everything went silent. The power and chaos that Belus was building was still evident all around them, but for a moment Sivin could not hear a single sound. Then without warning a piercing wail assaulted his ears, and he could have sworn that he saw a massive coiling figure made of nothing but shadow and lightning careen past the ship and plummet down through the atmosphere, striking the shrine below with enough force that it shattered the sound barrier. Wave after wave of aftershock pummeled their starship, and Sivin crouched down in the threshold and grabbed onto the door frame to steady himself.

When the chaos was over, he got shakily to his feet and craned his neck to peer at the planet’s surface below, refusing to leave the nominal security of the threshold.

The shrine was nowhere to be found. Dust and debris still filled the air, but through the haze Sivin could see a deep and jagged crater where the shrine used to be, still flashing and crackling with the remnants of Force lightning at its edges. All the forest and vegetation for nearly a kilometer around had been utterly blown away, leaving nothing but cracked ground and the shards of broken rock, half turned to glass. Beyond the blast radius, smoke rose from fires burning in the night.

Sivin felt cold all over. The heavy, coiling pressure of overwhelming Dark Side power had lessened, but he could still feel its presence lingering around Belus. _Permeating_ him, as if every muscle and bone and scale was infused with the Dark Side of the Force. Sivin was suddenly very aware that he was alone with a very dangerous Sith, on a Sith ship, in Sith-held space, far away from home and hours away from another Jedi.

Belus guided the ship back up through the atmosphere, this time setting the autopilot in a higher orbit. He wiped the bloody tears from his face and turned to leave the cockpit, but jumped when he saw Sivin standing wide-eyed in the threshold. “I… was not aware you had followed me.”

Sivin swallowed hard before finding his voice. “You were, uh, a little distracted.”

Belus nodded. Despite the menacing shift and pull of the Dark Side around him, he looked worn-out. Exhausted.

 _...Grieving_.

Belus dropped his gaze to the floor. “I… do not know if Jedi understand this, but I think I need to be alone for a while. There is food in the galley if you are hungry – help yourself to anything you find. I will be in the crew quarters at the back of the ship if you need me.”

He delicately edged by Sivin, careful not to touch him as he passed. Sivin kept his eyes on him as he watched the Sith retreat to the aft end of the ship. But before he got to the short hall that led to the crew’s quarters, Sivin held up a hand and called after him. “Wait.”

Belus paused, his weariness visible not only in his face and his posture, but in the Force as well. “...Yes?”

“Why did you...” Sivin approached him cautiously, but still kept a few meters away. “Why did you obliterate your own shrine?”

The first snarl Sivin had ever seen from Belus made his face look even more feral. “It was not _my_ shrine. But you are a _Jedi,_ you wouldn’t understand. I refuse to allow a long-dead Sith Lord to get away with murdering my own people. I’ll be _damned_ if I would _ever_ leave them unavenged.”

Even though he had kept his distance Sivin still took a step back. Belus noticed his alarm, and his expression softened. “I will not hurt you, Ikalruq. My anger is not for you, but I am very tired. These wounds are still fresh, and they hurt. I need to be alone and grieve for the loss of my companions.”

Sivin opened his mouth to say something, but clapped it shut quickly and just nodded.

Belus sighed. “You have a question.”

Again Sivin nodded, but he hesitated until Belus made a gesture with a clawed hand, encouraging him to continue.

“I just… I didn’t know Sith ever bothered. With caring about other Sith that much.”

A wan smile ghosted the edges of Belus’s mouth for a fleeting moment. “Passion is one of the concepts a Sith holds most dear, Ikalruq. And passion does not just mean violence and hate. We live and love fiercely, and it is not easy to have that torn away from us. I cared very deeply for some of those I lost tonight.”

“...Oh.” Sivin shifted his weight from one foot to another, unsure how to process this information but very aware that he was probably being an ass. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

The tired smile returned briefly. “Thank you. But I am not the only one who needs to grieve. I do not know Jedi rite or ritual for such things, or if you even have them, but I will respect whatever form your grief might take. For now, though, I really do need to be alone.” He waited for Sivin to nod in acknowledgment, then turned back to the hall and disappeared from sight.

Sivin stood there until he heard the sounds of a door open and then close again. He released a heavy sigh and collapsed back into the seat in the common area. He had entirely too much to think about, and none of it was even remotely close to calming and centering. Drawing his feet up to sit cross-legged on the cushioned bench, he adjusted his body into the traditional meditation posture, took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still pure indulgence here. Sivin is a giant walking mess of contradictions and conflicting information. He means well. But he is a mess.


	3. In Which A Jedi Falls Apart, But Only Metaphorically

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sivin has a very hard time dealing with grief.

The hours passed slowly. Sivin had been wrestling with his own thoughts for the better part of all of them, trying to prevent his mind from dwelling on his newest losses that he had suffered. Meditation was proving fruitless – he couldn’t seem to empty his mind of thoughts and questions and emotions. But his usual approach of keeping himself occupied to distract himself was equally useless, because there was nothing else to _do._ He couldn’t even go for a _walk_ here. He tried moving his position to sit on the floor, and even resorted to the Padawan’s tried and true method of reciting the code over and over in his head... But he kept getting caught up on the last line. And then the only thing Sivin could find himself capable of focusing on was remembering with vivid clarity the bodies of his recently fallen comrades, lying broken and bleeding in the forest clearing of a Sith graveyard world, light years from home. Once again, he could do nothing for them, even when he had been right there. Once again, he had lost every single person under his command. He hadn’t even recovered their bodies.

His meditation posture did not change and his eyes remained closed, expression blank. But tears started to silently fall down his cheek.

Belus stood in the entryway to the common area, watching Sivin quietly fall apart as he still tried to meditate. Although the Jedi had made a valiant attempt at tamping it down, now that he couldn’t escape from his own thoughts the anguish he was feeling screamed loud and clear through the Force, and his internal effort at strangling it only made it all the more intense. His pain resonated so closely with Belus’s own, his suffering so vivid and visceral, that it had finally drawn him out of his own isolation. He shifted his weight and shuffled into the common area, trying to make a little noise that would inform the Jedi of his presence.

Sivin stirred and Belus could hear a catch in his breathing, but he did not change position or open his eyes.

Belus sighed and crouched down next to the Jedi. “Ikalruq.”

A flicker in the Force told Belus that Sivin was fully aware of his presence, but the Jedi gave him no response.

“Sivin.”

The use of his first name surprised him enough that he opened his eyes and stared up at the Sith crouched next to him. He tensed seeing how close Belus was, but he didn’t edge away. “What?”

Belus studied his face, unable to completely penetrate the haze of Light Side power that suddenly had been brought up to bear, masking much of the Jedi’s less-visceral feelings. “Are you… alright?”

Sivin blinked, looked confused. “I… yes? Why?”

Belus slowly – very slowly – raised a clawed hand and reached towards Sivin’s face, barely making contact with his skin as he brushed at the tears on his cheek. “You are crying.”

Sivin flinched away from Belus, but touched his own face in surprise. “I...”

Belus searched the Jedi’s expression again, wishing he knew how to gain some purchase on that near-blinding barrier in the Force. Well… this probably wouldn’t go over well, but it was worth a try. “...Do you want to talk about it?”

Sivin jerked back and got to his feet, shaking his head. “What? No – there’s nothing to talk about. Sometimes it just takes me a hot minute to process things, is all. I’ll be fine. I’m fine. What are you trying to do, probe me for weakness?”

Belus just raised an eyebrow.

“Look, just… leave it alone, okay? I know you saved my life and healed my arm and it’s not like I don’t appreciate that, but I don’t need a _Sith Lord_ trying to get under my skin.”

“I am not trying to ‘get under your skin’, Sivin. You are troubled, and I can sense it in the Force.”

Sivin snorted. “And what does that have to do with you? I’m not dropping my guard around you any more than I have to.”

Belus made another irritated _gurgle-click_ in the back of his throat. “Nor do I ask you to. But when I say that I can sense it, I say so because you are practically crying out through the Force for someone to answer you. I could not help but feel that. Apparently you are not aware of it.”

Belus could feel more barriers in the Force being slammed up between them. The brightness was almost unbearable, and even though it was not visual he looked away. Sivin had backed himself up against the starboard wall, arms crossed and his face a carefully crafted blank mask. “Thank you for your _concern_ , can we just drop it?”

Belus let out a sigh. “I will respect your wishes. Dropping it. Did you eat?”

“What?”

“Did you eat.” Belus moved to the small galley and began opening cabinets. “I could make you some mimn’yet, but that might not be entirely digestible for you… I believe I have the ingredients for a basic xermaauc, or wroche stew, if Erion hasn’t eaten the...” his words faded. “...If I still have wroches left.” He leaned a hand on the counter, head bowed.

Sivin tilted his head, trying to catch the Sith’s eye. “What?”

Belus just shook his head and pressed a hand over his brow, pinching the scaled skin between his upper pair of eyes. “…Erion would sneak them, when I wasn’t paying close enough attention.”

“Who’s Eri – oh.” Sivin clapped his mouth shut. Of course. One of the people Belus had just lost. “I’m… sorry.”

The sorrow and anger sloughing off of Belus through the Force made Sivin flinch, but it was directed at nothing and no one in particular. He watched as Belus slowly and carefully opened a jar on the counter, letting the dried wroche contents sift through his fingers. “They were always so careful to follow the rules, so bent on doing things the traditional way, unless food was involved. Scolding them did little good, but I never truly minded. They...” Belus swallowed hard, and Sivin tried not to notice the tears in his lower pair of eyes. “They were the closest friend I have ever had. I loved them dearly, and now they are _gone_ . Not even lost to a worthy opponent. But a _Sithspawn_ . One of what should have been _our own_.” His anger flared, and with a single swift motion he crushed the container with one hand. He let it drop to the floor and leaned heavily on the counter, turning his back to the Jedi.

Sivin cast his eyes to the floor and remained silent and motionless, not knowing what to do or what to say. The darkness surrounding Belus licked and furled around him like a cold, shadowy negative of fire, but it never consumed, never spread. Only deepened with Belus’s grief. Belus _gurgle-clicked_ in his throat again, and released a shaky sigh. “…Do you have any opposition to xermaauc?”

Sivin shook his head, then realized Belus couldn’t see it from where he was standing. “...No, I’ve… I’ve had it before, it’s good.”

 

* * * *

 

Their meal was eaten in silence, Sivin awkwardly and intensely aware of the pain Belus was in, though he said nothing more about it. The Sith just stared into his plate with a pensive look in his eyes, chewing mechanically as he ate. It made Sivin think of his own recent losses, but every time the face of Teraia or Hukartl surfaced in his memory, he tamped it down and found something else to focus on. He ended up counting the scuffs in the table more than once.

When they were finished, Belus took Sivin’s plate without a word and placed the dishes in the autowash before bending down to pick up the container he had crushed earlier. He turned it over in his hands, a small and sad smile briefly ghosting over his face at some private memory before he used the force to bend it back into something reminiscent of its former shape. He placed it delicately on the counter. “When is your pick-up scheduled?”

“What? Oh. Um. Not for…” Sivin paused. “Why?”

Belus released a heavy sigh, weary of the suspicion. “So I can return you to your people. There is a reason I have not contacted my own, you know. I would rather not run the risk of my fellow Sith attempting to end your life upon discovering you are here, when I have already made effort to keep you alive.”

Feeling a twinge of guilt, Sivin nodded and stared down at the floor. After a moment’s hesitation he pulled his chronometer from his pocket, studying the numbers. “…Not for another nineteen standard hours. More or less.”

Belus nodded. “That will allow me time enough to find and recover Erion. They were the only one among my own who had a desire for their body to be returned to their homeworld. And that should be time enough for you to do the same for yours, if your custom requires it. I will help you, if you wish. If not, I understand.”

“Right. The bodies.” Sivin flinched. He knew that the Jedi Order would want them returned to Coruscant for interment in the Jedi Temple, but the thought of returning planetside to collect them was… he didn’t want to look into their lifeless faces, see their sightless eyes. It was hard enough already to trust in the last line of the Jedi Code as it _was_. A hard lump began to form in his throat, and he tried in vain to swallow it back down.

The conflict within Sivin took form in the Force, casting streaks of clouded colour over his brightness. His grief was still firmly locked down, and no matter how it boiled within him, he refused to allow it release. Belus stared hard at him, wondering at how very lost and stubborn this Jedi seemed to be. Once again, he asked the question. “Are you alright?”

“What? _Yes_ , I already said so. I’m – I’m _fine_. I’m just – look. I’m not a _child_. I’m not a _Padawan_. _I can deal with this._ I just need to… just need to distract myself for a while until it goes away.”

“That doesn’t help you ‘deal’ with it, that just enables you to _avoid_ it.”

Sivin huffed and slid down the wall to sit on the floor, fingers laced over his knees. “Yeah, well, if I avoid it long enough it won’t matter, now will it? And kind of hard to avoid it if their _bodies_ are still in the hold. So no, I’m not really all that eager to go back down there. I can wait until my pick-up team gets here. _They_ can collect them. That’s what we’ve always done, and I’ve always been _fine_.”

Belus sighed and shook his head, his voice as gentle as he knew how to make it. “Your people _died_ down there, Sivin. People you clearly cared about. That leaves a burden on any heart. Jedi or no.”

“No, it’s – it’s _different_ than that. Jedi don’t see death as an end. They’re – they’re one with the Force, now, and that’s cause for celebration and appreciation of the life they had. Not,” he waved a hand vaguely in the air, “not _grief_.” He stared down at his hands, flexing his fingers into and out of fists. “...’ _There is no death, only the Force_ ’. It’s just a little harder to realize if I’m looking at their _bodies_ , okay? But I’ll be fine.”

Belus nodded, clearly not believing a word he was hearing. He stepped over to where Sivin was sitting and crouched down next to him. “May I sit?”

Sivin eyeballed him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

He slid down beside the Jedi, mimicking his posture and drawing his knees up parallel to his chest. “You seem bent on denying that you are feeling anything more than temporary shock for the loss of your companions. But the Force shows me otherwise. You are hurting, Sivin. If you are afraid of allowing a Sith to see your suffering, I understand, truly I do, but the fact remains that I already know. You will not be betraying yourself to me by acknowledging that pain.” He reached over and hesitated for a moment, but when Sivin made no move to retreat from him he placed his hand lightly on Sivin’s arm. “And I would not use your suffering against you. Surely you should know by now that I have no intention of hurting you, or causing you more pain.”

The lump in Sivin’s throat was threatening to choke him. “I’m not sure _why_ , but thanks, I guess. Look its – it’s not that I don’t feel anything, okay? I do. Alright? _I do._ When terrible things happen and I lose someone, it’s just not real easy to get to the serenity part of things and in the meantime _this_ happens.” He waved his hands at nothing in particular. “ _Augh._ I don’t even want to _think_ about this anymore.” Sivin slumped forward, burying his face in his arms.

“Things do pass in time, Sivin. Provided they have an outlet instead of being buried deep within. Otherwise they just lie there, festering.”

Sivin sat there in silence for several long minutes, and when he did speak his voice came back muffled and quiet. “...Why can’t it just go away _now_.”

“...I don’t know. I wish I had a better answer for you.”

Sivin just nodded into his arms and heaved a sigh. He didn’t move again, and several minutes of silence turned into a quarter of an hour. Belus began to think that the exhausted Jedi had finally succumbed to his fatigue and fallen asleep, but his shoulders began to shake and his breath came in hitches.

There were some times when words would not help the grieving. Instead of thinking of something else to say, Belus ran his hand over Sivin’s shoulder in light, gentle circles, brushing his tendrils off to the side as he did so. The Sith could feel Sivin’s heart racing and his breathing was tense, but muffled because of his position. From what Belus could tell, he was trying in vain to control the threat of more tears.

Sivin suddenly sat up and glared at Belus. “Why are you so keen on _comforting_ me when you’re a _Sith_ _Lord_ , isn’t that against your whole philosophy? And didn’t you _just_ tell me when we were planetside how kindness is a platitude? We’re _enemies,_ for crying out loud. _Stars,_ what’s _wrong_ with you?”

Belus withdrew his hand, but remained where he sat. “We are more than the sum of our philosophies, Sivin. There is nothing wrong with being able to comfort someone, just as there is nothing wrong with being able to grieve. In that regard, both of our philosophies have failed us.”

Sivin just stared at him, his expression raw, eyes red and swollen and already spilling more unwanted tears.

Once again, Belus carefully lifted a hand to Sivin’s face, brushing at his tears with his thumb. “How can we truly be enemies, when we both are ravaged by the same suffering? You may deny your grief, but I can feel you in the Force. You hurt, Sivin. You _hurt_ . And you hurt yourself _more_ by trying to deny yourself the ability to feel it.”

Sivin continued to stare, but his focus wasn’t fixed. More tears spilled from his eyes, and he jerked back away from Belus to furiously wipe them away. “I never asked for this.”

“No one ever does, Sivin.” He offered him his hand, palm up.

Through his swollen, watery eyes, Sivin glanced from the proffered hand to Belus’s face and back again. “What are you offering me?”

“Comfort. A shoulder, an ear. Kindness, if you wish to call it that. Or whatever you need.”

“...Why?”

Belus still held out his hand. “Because we are very different, yet we are the same. Because we have both been done a great disservice by the powers to which we hold allegiance. Because you cry out through the Force for understanding and connection, yet don’t even realize you are doing it. And because it is easy for me to care when I see you suffering the same loss that I have just endured.”

Sivin’s eyes lingered on Belus’s hand. He reached for it, hesitated, drew back. He shook his head. “I shouldn’t need this. It’s not right.”

Belus nodded, once and slowly. “...That is your decision to make. The offer remains open.” He withdrew his hand, still studying Sivin’s face intently.

But Sivin couldn’t meet his gaze. Inside he was screaming. He wanted nothing more than to take Belus up on his offer, to throw caution to the proverbial wind and curl up next to the giant reptilian Sith beside him, sob until his eyes held no more tears, and pass out so consciousness couldn’t haunt him for at least a few hours. But he couldn’t let the pain control him – the path to the Dark Side was littered with those who had allowed themselves to give in to their suffering.

 _And yet_ … He glanced back up at Belus, who was still scrutinizing him closely. His brow was turned up in what Sivin almost imagined was worry, and his eyes held gentleness in them despite the sunburst of Dark Side corruption. And this was a Sith Lord? ...Undeniably so. Just as Belus had heard of Sivin, so Sivin had also heard of Darth Belus. Not in as much detail, but enough to know that he was respected and feared among the ranks of the Sith, and not one to be trifled with. Watching Belus completely obliterate the Sith shrine from orbit was evidence enough of that. And yet here he was, making every effort to comfort a Jedi he had just met who had lost his friends. Simply because he recognized his pain.

Suddenly the weariness in his muscles and bones seemed far too much to bear. Sivin took a deep breath and blew out a shaky sigh before letting himself slump to the side, resting his forehead gingerly on on Belus’s upper arm. “...Just… Just tell me I’m not making a huge mistake.”

A clawed hand reached up to tuck one of Sivin’s tendrils back over his shoulder. “I do not believe that giving yourself permission to grieve, and allowing another to comfort you, qualifies as a mistake. But only time will prove if I am right.” He curled his arm around Sivin’s shoulders, lightly pressing the Jedi against him. “What do you need, Sivin?”

He swallowed hard, trying to calm a pounding heart and lumpy throat as he leaned into the tentative embrace. “I don’t… damn, I don’t even _know_.”

Belus _hmm_ ed softly. “Grief takes many forms. If you need to cry, or scream in rage, or dwell in confusion and fear for a time, know that those are not signs of weakness or an indication that you have failed to take your code to heart. Let yourself feel what you are feeling and save the judgment for later. You will not fall. Your heart knows where it lies, and that is something that you can trust.”

Sivin nodded slowly, and drew his knees up to his chest as he curled himself up against the other man’s side. The tears started to well up again almost immediately, and he hid his face in his arms. “I feel awful. I didn’t… I didn’t even _know_ most of them all that well. But I still feel _awful._ ”

Belus ran his thumb in gentle circles over Sivin’s shoulder and nodded. “I know. And I understand.”

Sivin raised his head to take in a shaky breath, but when he let it out it turned into a choked sob. Suddenly giving up on maintaining any composure, he pressed his face into Belus’s chest and let the tears fall. His breaths came in ragged uneven gasps, punctuated with floods of sobbing and tears Sivin didn’t even know he still had left. He cried not only for those he had just lost, but for his old friends long gone, for his Padawan, and his Master, and all those he had never allowed himself to cry for before.

Belus curled his arms around him and ran one hand through Sivin’s head tendrils as a low-frequency click-rattle rose from his sternum, making both his and Sivin’s bodies vibrate faintly. At first startled by the quiet but sudden sound, Sivin quickly realized it was something unique to whatever Belus’s species was. Obviously meant to be reassuring, it slowly grew in intensity but not in volume.

Sivin heaved a quavering sigh and tried to relax into his tentative new friend. The sound had a soothing effect on his nerves, resonating not just with the sadness he was feeling but also filling the edges of the Force around him with a warmth that he had previously associated only with the wide-eyed wonder he had felt when he had first been brought to the Jedi temple.

He could feel Belus smile softly against the top of his head. “If it helps, I can keep it up all night.”

“...Yeah. Okay.” Sivin returned the smile weakly through his tears, even though he knew Belus couldn’t see it from his position. “But...”

“Hm?”

Sivin wiped at his eyes and leaned back to tilt his head up so he could look Belus in the eye. “What do you even get out of this?”

Belus shook his head and shrugged. “Taking care of others can be a way of taking care of yourself. This is part of how I grieve. We are helping each other, whether it seems so or not.”

“...Oh.” He rubbed again at his eyes. “I’m… really kriffing exhausted.”

“As am I. Dawn is breaking on the planet below us, but neither of us have gotten any rest. Does making an attempt at sleep sound like it would help? In a real bed? Returning planetside can wait.”

Sivin let out a mirthless laugh. “I feel like I’m about ready to pass out right here, but… I don’t know. Yeah. I guess.” The thought of being left alone in one of the crew’s quarters right after he had started bawling his eyes out again made him feel a little sick to his stomach. He pushed away from Belus and got to his feet, wobbling a little as he did so.

Belus rose and offered Sivin his hand again. This time he took it, and Belus led him to the aft of the ship and down the short hall that led to a series of doors. One of them slid open, revealing neatly-kept quarters clearly designed for someone nearly two and a half meters tall. Sivin took a quick survey of the room and noted a desk with a chair that could accommodate Belus’s tail and digitigrade legs, a small shelf packed with books that could have been hundreds of years old, and a plain but comfortable-looking bed with a copious amount of plain yet comfortable-looking pillows. “Cozy.”

“Only the best for the Sith Empire’s finest.” He reached over to the edge of the desk and tapped the switch on a small lamp made out of some sort of spongy wood. A dim purple-blue light bathed the room, allowing it to be dark enough to sleep without distraction, but light enough to see in case one needed to get up for any reason. “Do you want me to sleep with you?”

Sivin startled. “What? No – _stars, no_ – wait, you meant – _wow_ that is an unfortunate choice of words.”

Belus gave him a blank look.

Even in Sivin’s ragged, exhausted state of mind, he had to laugh. “Okay. For future reference, that’s a euphemism for sex that either no one ever uses in the Sith Empire so you’ve never heard it, or they _do_ and you have been using that phrase without intending innuendo all this time but no one has had the balls to explain it to you.”

Belus rolled all four of his eyes. “I don’t often offer _either_ to anyone,” he said dryly, “but your euphemism is noted. Now do you wish me to stay with you, or no?”

“...Yeah. Yeah, I do. Sorry. Misunderstanding.”

“They happen.” Belus favoured him with a warm smile. “You want to get cleaned up before we try to rest? I already scrubbed down earlier, the refresher is through that door. I can find you some clean clothes in the meantime.”

Sivin nodded. Hot water and some clothes that weren’t covered in blood and sweat sounded like they could do him a least a little good.

 

* * * *

 

When he got out of the shower there was a set of folded clothes in simple black sitting on the counter, and he emerged from the refresher a lot cleaner and a little less red around the eyes. He was having some trouble filling out the clothes he had been given though – the sleeves and trouser legs were a little too long, and the shoulders sagged a little awkwardly even if he buttoned the shirt all the way up.

“Apologies for the fit.”

Sivin waved it off. “Eh, well, you _are_ a quarter-meter taller than I am. Can’t be helped. And here I am, used to being the tallest.”

Belus chuckled from his place on the bed, already curled up among the pillows with an ancient book in his hands. He set it aside and slid back to give Sivin a place to lie down. “...How are you feeling?”

Sivin flopped down on his back next to him. “I’m fi – okay. Um. Pretty rough, to be honest.” He cast an arm over his bloodshot eyes, leaving the other to rest limply on his chest. “Still exhausted. I feel like I can barely move.”

Belus shifted to make more room for his newfound friend. “Let’s try to sleep, then. We can talk more when we wake up, if you like.”

The low-frequency sound Belus had made earlier was already starting up again, and Sivin curled up on his side so he could be a little closer to the vibration. “Okay.”

The soothing and strangely familiar resonance from the Sith’s sternum washed in warm waves with the Force over Sivin, not really obscuring his thoughts and feelings and worries so much as rounding out their edges, making them more visible, but less raw. Like stones on the bottom of a clear mountain stream.

Belus reached over Sivin’s chest to rest his hand on top of the Jedi’s own. He could feel Sivin’s breathing grow shallow and even, his consciousness already fading. Belus allowed himself a soft smile and he let his own eyes drift close, settling into the comfort of quiet and dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very fluffy and very self-indulgent and the end feels very stereotypical but I don't caaaaaare  
> It gets worse. And/or better, I suppose, depending on how you look at it. There are a lot more chapters to this thing, I never intended on it being long but apparently I was wrong and now it's eating my soul.


	4. In Which Our Perspective Shifts, But The Result Is Rather Similar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something else going on back on the planet's surface...

It was pitch dark, stifling, and the pressure was crushing. No light came to eyes here. No air came into lungs struggling for breath, only acid and bile. A hand thrust through the viscous, burning fluid, groping for a lightsaber just barely out of reach. A desperate flick through the Force, and the hilt snapped into the searching hand. With a _snap-hiss_ of brilliant crimson light, the lightsaber sprung to life and the pressure vanished with the wet rip and tear of seared, burning flesh. Lungs gulped in the fresh air, and watering eyes met the starlight in ragged relief.

Astele stood among the remains of the bisected reptile that had swallowed her whole, gasping and wheezing, reveling in the fact that she was still alive. She shook herself all over, disgusted with her damp fur and the cloying, musty smell that lingered on her clothes. “I am _never_ doing that again.”

She turned in a circle where she was, surveying the damage she had caused to the hssiss. She smirked in grim satisfaction with the two halves of the creature still smoldering from the cuts that her blade had burned through the flesh. “I _hate_ hssiss.” Looking up, she glanced at the trees around her. Nothing looked familiar, so she must have been carried quite a ways within the creature’s gut before she had managed to cut her way out.

But she heard running water somewhere ahead, and that at least meant she could wash some of the gore off of her. She ducked through the underbrush, using her small size to slip through the ferns and grasses without effort. The stream she stumbled upon wasn’t large, but it was deep enough to roll around in and fast enough to wash away the filth clinging to her fur. Feeling slightly better, she climbed out of the water and shook herself off.

And paused. Had she heard someone?

She pricked her ears up, rotating them in all directions as she strained to pinpoint the source of the sound. _There_.

She moved cautiously, edging towards a dip in the ground ahead with caution. She crossed a narrow trail as she approached, but didn’t pay it any mind. She peered down and saw the thick end of a long-fallen log butted up against the forest floor where it had fallen away when the tree had first been downed, leaving a hollow in the ground.

And in that hollow was a body. Well. Perhaps not yet. It was definitely a Jedi, though. Still alive for now, but Astele intended on correcting that soon enough.

The Jedi groaned. He lay beside a jagged piece of rock, and a nasty gash in the side of his horned head indicated he had struck it on his way down. He stirred, eyes suddenly flying open as he jerked upright, catching a lightsaber that flew from a few meters away towards his outstretched hand. It flashed to life, bright green blade nearly blinding Astele’s night-adjusted eyes as she stumbled back.

“Sivin!” He leapt from the hollow and whipped around in a half-circle, his pupil-less eyes scanning wildly for someone who wasn’t there.

Astele scrambled away from him, belatedly drawing her own lightsaber. It was then that the Jedi noticed her, and he stared for a moment in non-comprehension before bringing his lightsaber to bear on her. “Where’s Sivin?”

She lit her own saber, the crimson light flashing against the bright green of the other blade. “Who, your leader? Haven’t seen him. Just you and a bunch of murderous hssiss.” She cautiously circled just outside her opponent’s range. “They wiped out our camp.”

The Jedi’s blade lowered by just a fraction. “...Ours too. Sivin and I were the only ones left.”

“Well now it looks like it’s just you.”

She could see him swallow hard. “...He – he could still be alive.”

The hope in his voice made her cringe. “Don’t bet on it. I just got swallowed whole by one of those things, and barely made it out alive. Everyone else is gone. Stronger warriors than any of you Jedi, and they’re all _gone_.” Her lower lip started to quiver, and she turned it into a snarl. “If _you_ hadn’t shown up, we wouldn’t have even had to _be_ here.”

The look of vulnerability on the Jedi’s face was surprising. “Oh… I’m sorry...”

She blinked, taken aback. “...Have you even _fought_ before?”

He started to nod, but it turned into a shake of his head. “Not… for real. Just sparring. I kind of… I kind of got into BrightWatch because I was the Padawan of the right person at the right time. I guess I don’t really belong here.”

“That’s not the kind of information you should give your enemy, you know.” Her own blade lowered, just a little.

Realizing his mistake a little too late, he gave her a wan little smile. “You’re the first Sith I’ve ever met.”

“Oh, kriffing hell.” She dropped her blade low and stepped back. “I can’t kill you, it’d be like popping the heads off Lyris flowers. I can’t make a kill that _embarrassing_.”

The Jedi lowered his lightsaber as well. “I, uh… Thanks?”

Utterly ridiculous. “Look, it’s been just fabulous chitchatting with you, uh, Jedi –”

“Domthus.”

“What?”

“My name is Domthus. Dom.”

“…Right. Whatever. But I have to get back to the clearing we were camped at. I don’t suppose you have _any_ idea what direction your own camp was in? I can figure it out from there.”

Dom glanced around briefly, noting the trail they were on. His eyes followed it in either direction, then turned and pointed.

Ah, okay. Judging from the ridges she could see through the trees, they had been over… _there_ when they were spying on the Jedi earlier. “Yeah, thanks.” She turned and sprinted in the opposite direction. If she was lucky, their ship had been ignored by the hssiss and still rested intact near their campsite. And if she was even luckier, she could make it there without running into more of the traitorous lizards.

“Wait!”

Oh for kriffing stars’ sake. He was _following_ her. She tried her damnedest to ignore him and increased her speed, following the trail through the forest. It twisted and turned but ultimately led in the right direction, breaking out of the trees and right back into the clearing where Astele’s life had been turned upside-down. She slowed to a cautious walk, gaze lingering long at the three bodies of her former comrades lying scattered on the ground.

Dom came jogging up behind her, but he too slowed when he saw the aftermath of the hssiss attack all around them. “...Oh.”

Astele pretended he didn’t exist. She darted across the clearing and made for the trees beyond, hopes rising that she could get away from this planet as soon as –

It wasn’t there.

The afterburners had seared scorch marks into the grass where the ship had formerly been lying, leaving nothing but flattened vegetation and Astele’s sinking heart.

Dom caught up to her and slowed to stand by her side, his white eyes studying the ground for a moment before looking up to scan the night sky. “Who took your ship?”

And with that, her spirits rose. _Someone was still alive_. “It – it must have been Belus! He’s the only one I didn’t see die – of _course_ he’s not dead, he’s a kriffing powerhouse. _Ugh,_ I’m such an idiot. He was fighting the hssiss when I got swallowed. I guess he thought I was a goner, took the ship and left.”

Dom pointed up into the sky. “Is that it?”

And sure enough, the familiar running lights of a ship could dimly be seen, floating low in the atmosphere some ways above them. Her communicator! She patted herself down, fishing a hand-held comm unit out of a pocket. She flicked the switch to activate it, only to be met by a sputter and a spark. Hssiss saliva oozed from a crack in the side, smoking like acid against the electronics inside. She glared up at Dom. “You are _such_ bad luck.”

“But I didn’t –”

A distant shriek put a stop to all conversation, and the two just looked at each other with wide eyes. Astele mouthed “ _hssiss_ ” and glanced around, expanding her field of vision with the Force. Nothing moved in the immediate area, and the call had sounded pretty far away. But her tension didn’t ease. She motioned for the Jedi to follow her as she carefully made her way to the base of the largest tree near them. The nearest branches were frustratingly high up. Leaning in close she whispered in his ear, “Can you climb?”

He nodded, and without another word he pulled the sash from around his waist and looped it around the trunk of the tree. Using it as a brace, he slowly hopped upwards.

Before he could get far Astele jumped for him, grabbing onto his back and hoping he’d keep his balance. He flailed a bit at the sudden addition of weight, but managed to hold on. Carefully moving up the tree, he managed to inch his way up until they reached the lowest of the branches, over thirty meters into the air.

As soon as a branch thick enough to hold her weight came within grabbing distance, Astele jumped from Dom’s back and started climbing on her own. Dom followed close behind and a few minutes later they were perched near the top of the tree, crouched together inside a fork in the trunk.

Astele breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, so you aren’t _all_ bad luck.”

“...Thanks. Now what?”

She pursed her lips. “Well… my communicator is busted, so I have no way of contacting our ship. So I guess we’ll have to wait and see if Belus comes back down here… If he hasn’t found them already, he’ll have to return for Erion’s body.” She flinched. “...That’s the only thing that could get him to come back.”

Dom blinked. “But what about the others, back in the clearing –”

She shook her head violently and looked away.

Dom took the hint. “I’m sorry.” He sat for a few minutes, wracking his brain to try and think of any ideas. Suddenly his eyes lit up and he drew an object from one of his pockets. “...Would my own communicator work? I know the frequency is wrong and it can’t be changed, but I could pull it apart and use the electronics inside to repair yours. I like tinkering with stuff like this in my spare time. I think I could probably get it to work.”

Astele’s ears perked up for a moment, but her face fell and she shook her head. “Not without a power cell you won’t.”

He frowned and reached into a pocket halfway down the leg of his trousers, pulling out a long cylinder. “…The power cell to a lightsaber should work.”

Both Astele’s eyebrows shot up. “Where did you –”

“I have two.” He began to disassemble it, unscrewing the bottom to tap out the power cell within. “They told me I showed a lot of promise with Jar’Kai, so I was trained to dual-wield. I just… I don’t really have the confidence for it. I’m afraid of hurting myself.” He let out a weak laugh.

“Are you sure you’re a Jedi?” She eyed him sidelong, but accepted the proffered power cell. She pulled her busted communicator from her pocket, and together they started pulling things apart and swapping components between the electronics. “You’re pretty good at this kind of stuff, at least.”

He flashed her another sad little smile. “Thanks. Uh...”

“Astele.”

“Astele. Thanks. So are you.”

“It’s a hobby. You know, if we get this thing working the broadcaster is still going to need to charge. We’re going to be stuck up here for a while until then.”

“I can deal with that. It’s about as comfortable up here as it is on a sleeping mat.”

“Heh. Wow. That’s… impressively terrible.”

He chuckled. “You’re telling me. I rolled off my mat one night because it was so uncomfortable it kept me awake, and I ended up falling asleep on the floor instead. Never looked back.”

“You know, with the Republic in their pocket you’d think the Jedi could afford a few beds.”

Dom shrugged. “It’s supposed to build character, or something. Once you’re out of the nursery they start you out on cots, but when a Master claims you as a Padawan then your cell usually just has a mat instead. You gotta wait until you get to be a Master yourself before they even think of assigning you a bed.”

“Your _cell_?” She cringed. “ _Stars_ , Jedi, even Sith acolytes at my _academy_ had bunk beds in actual _rooms_.”

“Really? Oh. I thought that... Sith apprentices had to stay outside, when they’re even allowed to sleep.”

“What? Where did you hear that?”

The sheepish look on his face would have been comical had Astele not realized he had genuinely believed what he had been told. The colour at the base of his horns darkened in embarrassment. “The Jedi Temple? I haven’t… I haven’t really been anywhere else but a few of the Core Worlds. This is my first assignment since passing my trials.”

“Oh dear _Mokrha_. It’s like you’re a _child_.” She plugged the power cell into the newly-reconstructed communicator and waited for the little green light to signify it had a power connection. It popped on within a few seconds, and she grinned. “Perfect. Now we wait for it to charge.”

“Ha, we make a good team.”

Astele raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m not one of your little Jedi compatriots, Dom. Domthus. Whatever. We’re not friends.”

“...Right. I know. Not friends. Sorry.” He shifted his position in the branches, mind suddenly on all the people he had just lost. He wished he knew if Sivin had actually survived or not, but he knew the odds weren’t in his favor. He remembered Teraia telling him about how he had managed to survive the loss of entire parties before, at least twice, but that was no guarantee that would be the case this time.

Thinking of Teraia just made his heart hurt. She had been so kind to him, taking him under her wing when he had been introduced to BrightWatch, and making sure he’d had everything he needed. The memory of seeing her broken body lying there in the remains of their camp sent a spike of pain right through his gut, and he wiped at suddenly watery eyes.

Astele watched him, curious and a little taken aback by the sudden turn of his mood. “Thinking about the other Jedi?”

He nodded.

“Are you… are you actually feeling, like… real sadness? ”

Dom rapidly blinked away the threat of tears and looked at Astele in surprise, but he nodded.

“...Oh.” She squirmed in her seat on the branch. “That’s… oh. I didn’t think Jedi felt sad. You all just seem like… bright, shiny holes in the Force.”

Dom wiped his sleeve across his face. “What do you mean?”

Awkward. “Well... Usually when I feel Jedi through the Force, there’s no colour around them. Just bright light. Sometimes it _burns_. But mostly it just… feels like nothing. No colour, no emotion, no…” she waved her hands vaguely in the air, “no _passion_. Hence, Jedi.”

Dom just looked bewildered. “That’s… I don’t think I know many Jedi like that. We feel things just like everyone else, we just – we just try to control our emotions and focus on peace and serenity. Being centered.”

“...Oh. Huh. Weird.” She shifted her position so she could get a better look at Dom’s face. “So… are you okay though?”

“Wh – why should a Sith care if I’m okay? You just said we’re not friends.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well excuse me for feeling _bad_ for you. You just lost a lot of _other_ friends.”

Astele thought Dom’s expression couldn’t get more confused, but she was rapidly proved wrong. He chewed on his lower lip. “Isn’t that empathy?”

“Well, yeah, dumbass. _Feelings_. We _have_ them. All _kinds_ of them. Really intense ones. That’s kind of half the point of being a Sith.”

“...Oh. Huh. Weird.”

Astele let out a nervous giggle at hearing her own words tossed back at her. “...But seriously, are you okay? You still kinda look like you’re about to cry.”

Dom started to nod, but the nod slowly turned into a shake of his head as images of Teraia and Gi’rel and Hukartl flashed across his memory. He blinked rapidly, trying to banish the tears from coming, but they refused to cooperate. He wiped again at his eyes, sniffling into his sleeve.

Astele flinched. She could feel him missing his fellow Jedi, could feel the shock still lingering around him over the suddenness and brutality of their deaths. Her own Master had died this same night as well, not to mention the three other Sith who had been with them. “...Kriffing hell. Erion would kill me if they saw this.” Blinking back her own sudden tears, she held out her arms. “Just come here.”

Dom just looked at her blankly for a moment, but even lost in his own jumble of thoughts and emotions he could recognize in the Force the same feeling of loss radiating from Astele. He crept over to her and settled in by her side, each of them awkwardly curling an arm around the other. She rested her head against his shoulder, sniffling. “…I hate losing people.”

Dom tightened his grip on her shoulder for a brief second and pointed up at the sky. “At least you might still have a friend up there.”

Astele let herself smile and nod. “What – what’s the charge on the communicator say?”

Dom leaned forward to pluck the device from its spot securely jammed into the fork of a branch. “…One percent.”

Both Jedi and Sith looked at each other and let out an exhausted, stress-induced giggle. At that rate, it would take hours for the communicator to charge, and they had no way of knowing if Belus would be lingering with the ship in the atmosphere that long.

“I guess we have a while to wait.” Dom was about to tuck the communicator back into its spot when the brilliant flashes of rapid-fire lasers lit up the sky. The ship in the lower atmosphere was firing on down on the ground at a target many kilometers away, and as both Dom and Astele craned their next to watch, proton torpedoes were added to the assault.

Dom risked a sidelong glance at Astele. “What is he _doing_?”

She just shook her head, wide-eyed and fur standing on end. Dom could feel a growing dread building around her, and she thrust a hand out to grab Dom by the belt around his chest. “Hang on. To anything. _Tight_.”

And before he could ask her what she even meant, he felt it.

And saw it. The wind began to whip up all around them, throwing shreds of clouds into swirls of blackened shadow above them with deafening roars. Lightning leapt through the sky, striking the ground far away and sparking fires in the distant forest. Dom gripped at the tree branches tightly and flattened himself down as best he could. Through the needles of the tree he could see the gathering storm come to a dark and menacing head far away over what he thought might have been a peak, glinting reddish in the flashes of lightning.

Everything around them suddenly fell soundless for a brief moment, and Dom almost wondered if he had gone deaf. But just as abruptly as it had fallen it vanished, it was replaced with the most piercing shriek he had ever heard in his life. From high in the sky a twisting, writhing mass of billowing shadow came plummeting down, bristling with blue lightning and assaulting his senses in the Force with hatred and agony. It made impact, shattering whatever red peak had been in the distance in a blinding explosion.

Dom squeezed his eyes shut and held on tight, bracing himself as shockwave after shockwave pulsed through the air, twisting the ground far below them. He was certain their tree would be uprooted or they would lose their grip, but just as quickly as it had come it passed. The wind died down, the ground stopped shaking, and the forest was returned to quiet. A lingering sense of menace and dread still lurked in the air, making the hush of the woods around them seem as though it were waiting for another onslaught.

Dom felt so cold. But he risked cracking open his eyes just a fraction. Far away, a cloud of dust and smoke rose from the forest, illuminated from below by fires burning in the underbrush and the occasional flash of remnant lightning. He coughed and wiped a hand over his face, and turned to check on Astele. “Are you okay? What – what _was_ that?” He kept his voice to a whisper.

Her eyes were wide and red-rimmed, her fur still standing on end. “That – that was Lord Belus. H-he’s the only one who could have done that. He must have – he must have destroyed the shrine.”

“That was a _Sith_?” Dom shuddered all over, the dread he was feeling increasing tenfold.

“I’m never making fun of him again.” Astele retreated back into the fork in the tree, rubbing furiously at her face and shaking herself off. “He – he’s really strong in the Force. Everyone says he should be in the Tribunal’s circle, if they could just get him away from his books. I just – I’ve just never seen him really _mad_ before.”

Dom couldn’t find anything to say so he just slumped down next to her, letting her lean against him once more. “At… at least I didn’t drop the communicator.” He held it up, and Astele gave him a wide, if shaky, grin.

“Good job. What’s the charge on it say?”

He turned it over. “...one point two percent.”

She broke out into giggles. “It’s going to be a _very_ long night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had actually originally intended on killing off all the other Jedi/Sith other than Sivin and Belus, but the feels got a hold of me and I ended up making a few tweaks. Aaaaaaand then these other characters ended up being so central to parts of the plot later on that it's taken on an entirely new life. This whole story is getting really long and complicated, and I'm getting pretty intense feelings about where it's headed.
> 
> Also, the academy Astele referred to is the one on Odacer-Faustin that's featured in the novel Red Harvest.


	5. In Which More Than Dead Bodies Are Discovered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sivin and Belus return to the planet's surface to retrieve the bodies of their fallen comrades, and end up finding more than a little surprise.

Sivin came back into consciousness slowly, stretching and groaning before he cracked open one eye to peer up at Belus.

The Sith was lying next to him, one hand propping up his head and the other still resting lightly on Sivin’s chest. His upper pair of eyes were still closed, but the sunbursts of the lower set peered down at Sivin with soft amusement. “Good morning.”

“Morning is a dumb concept in space, you know.”

“Mm.”

“How long were we asleep?”

Belus stretched his legs, cracking the joints. “You slept for about six hours. I am still partially asleep, but once we get up and move around I will be fully aware.”

Sivin quirked an eyebrow. “...What?”

Belus twisted around and sat up, leaning back against the bulkhead. “Annoo-Dat brains are divided vertically with their eyes. One hemisphere can sleep while the other is awake. Rarely do I need to resort to full unconsciousness to gain rest.”

“Kind of like the Delphines or Porporites, I guess.”

“Very much like. Save that with a double set of eyes I retain depth perception even when half-asleep.”

“That’s handy.” Sivin rolled over onto his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows. “At least I know what you are now. Other than a Belus.”

He chuckled. “You can call me Adrestin, if you wish. Some Dark Lords renounce their original names entirely when they gain a Darth title, but my heritage does me honor. Though I selected my Darth name, I still retain my birth name and use it as a matter of preference in more informal settings, like this.”

Sivin nodded. “Adrestin. Okay. I can do that. And _you_ can call _me_ Siv. That’s what all my…” He let himself laugh shortly. “All my friends call me Siv.”

Belus – _Adrestin_ – smiled and patted one of his shoulders, warmth radiating from him in the Force. “Then I shall call you Siv.”

Sivin was almost relieved Adrestin hadn’t made a big deal about the obvious implication. “So… I hear Darth names always mean something? What does ‘Belus’ mean?”

“It means ‘Lord’.”

Sivin paused. Blinked once. Paused again. “...Doesn’t Darth mean ‘Lord’ too?”

A tiny smile quirked up one corner of Adrestin’s mouth. “In some circles.”

“...So you chose to be Dark Lord, Darth Belus. Dark Lord, Lord Lord.”

The smile grew a fraction wider. “Indeed.”

Sivin’s face broke out into a wide grin. “You have the _weirdest_ sense of humor I have _ever_ seen in a Sith.”

“So I have been told.”

Siv couldn’t help but laugh. “If I were you, I would have been worried people would make fun of me for picking a name like that.”

Adrestin’s smile turned feral, but his voice held a playful edge. “You are forgetting, Jedi, that I am a renowned powerhouse among the Sith. The only one bold enough, strong enough, and clever enough to gain the key to An-Drend. Were there a vacant place among those in the Tribunal, I would fill it. No one would dare laugh at me to my face, and doing so behind my back is only slightly less dangerous.”

Sivin sobered just for a moment, suddenly aware again that his unlikely companion was still a Sith, and was still steeped in the power of the Dark Side. “Then… why pick the name?”

Adrestin’s expression grew gentle as he sensed Siv’s trepidation. “As you said, I have an odd sense of humor. It amuses _me_ , regardless of anyone else. I hardly have the inclination to purposefully instigate potential hostilities with other Sith.”

Siv nodded, slowly relaxing again. He adjusted his position to get more comfortable, squirming around to pillow his head on his new friend’s leg. “...What’s the key to An-Drend?”

Adrestin was quiet for a moment before he chuckled. “I should have known that was not widely known among the Jedi.” He accommodated Siv’s adjustments to his position and rested one arm over his chest, letting his other hand lightly stroke Siv’s head tendrils. “An-Drend is a fortress. It was formerly just a legend – rumor had it that inside held a great repository of Sith knowledge. A storehouse of our heritage, so to speak… Just the sort of thing BrightWatch would love to destroy, come to think of it.”

“Ha.”

“It was supposedly one of the wonders of the ancient Sith worlds. Only it was guarded by wards and traps and powers of the Dark Side so strong and convoluted that none had been able to enter it. For centuries its location was lost to time. Most thought it just another tale to entertain Sith children with, to give them a taste for adventure.”

“But the legend was true?”

“Oh yes. After a fashion. The defenses of the place are certainly true. Once I discovered where it was, it took me months to figure out how to get inside. But that is a very long tale for another time.”

“Noted. So what was _actually_ inside? Most ‘great Sith repositories’ that I’ve heard about have just been weapons. That’s primarily why BrightWatch targets them.”

Adrestin shook his head. “This one is no weapon. There is actually not a single one to be found within it, other than its own defenses. It truly does only contain Sith knowledge. And a lot of it.”

Sivin flinched. It still sounded like something that needed to be destroyed, considering what Sith knowledge usually contained.

Adrestin gazed down at Sivin, tilting his head quizzically. “Disliking the idea of this place?”

“Just… nevermind.” Siv shook his head. “Keep going.”

“Well… there are books, and scrolls, and tablets with ancient inscriptions so faded they are barely readable. There are databases and digital libraries so old that one would be challenged to find a way to access them, for lack of the technological systems they operated on. There are holocrons and proto-holocrons, and even a few ancient tombs that still house spirits able to be summoned.” He smiled down at the look of slowly-growing dread on Siv’s face. “You needn’t worry. One of the most ironic things about An-Drend is how much the rest of the Sith want to access it, but how little most of them would value its contents.”

Siv frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Sith philosophy is more than our code. It is a rich and diverse tradition and worldview that spans over twenty thousand years of history and culture. The same is true for the Jedi, I am sure, considering both were derived from the same source.”

“I get that,” Siv snorted, “but what does that have to do with this fortress?”

Adrestin curled one of the Jedi’s head tendrils around his fingers, thoughtful. “...An-Drend reflects that diverse history. Most of its contents do not involve things such as warfare, or Force technique, or alchemy. They involve philosophical debate. Soliloquy and conjecture. Poetry and art.” He sighed. “Sadly, many of our more influential Sith do not see value in such things. But I do. Once I gained access to the fortress, I sealed myself within An-Drend for many months to study, and have gone back repeatedly to do the same. But the thing about An-Drend is that once breached, it binds access to the single individual that could pass through its defenses. Hence my title.”

“Title?”

“‘ _Keeper of the Key of An-Drend’_. Although technically, it means that I _am_ the key. In theory, I could take another Sith in with me, and the fortress would allow it. But I have not bothered to try. And I have not informed many, outside of a precious few, that it is a possibility.”

“Why not?”

Adrestin raised a scaly eyebrow. “How many Sith do _you_ know that openly have a taste for poetry and philosophy? If they are prevalent, they wisely keep their mouths shut and voices down. If I ever found someone I could trust enough to take with me, and wise enough or curious enough to appreciate what’s inside, I would certainly entertain the thought. But that is unlikely to happen. Being introspective is not popular in the Sith Empire. ”

Sivin let out a short laugh. “Eh, it’s not popular in the Jedi Order either, despite all the effort of appearances.”

Adrestin’s other eyebrow shot up. “Really. Care to elaborate?”

“Well, at risk of unwisely oversharing…” Siv dropped his eyes, suddenly a little sheepish. “I know the Order makes their PR sound like we’re all introspective, mindful warrior-monks, and I’m sure a lot of us are but – I don’t know, I never seem to meet many that really delve much into philosophy. Study is definitely a thing, _wow_ is it a thing, but getting _too_ deep into it is not really all that encouraged. Brings up too many questions. And honestly it makes my head spin.” He rolled his eyes. “You look at all these philosophy texts and first they say one thing, then they say another thing that says the total opposite, and I can’t keep more than one in my head at the same time.”

A smile crept across Adrestin’s face. “Then our texts have a lot more in common than you would imagine. Sith philosophy does the same thing. I find it fascinating. Particularly when I discover things that make perfectly good sense, yet also are at odds with the established norm.”

Siv made an exaggerated yawn. “One being’s fascination is another’s _bored to death_.”

“‘ _There is no boredom, there is study’_.”

Siv burst into laughter. “Careful, or you’ll start passing for a Jedi Temple librarian.”

“I’m sure the eyes would give me away.” Adrestin favoured Siv with a dry smile. “But I think I will keep to An-Drend for my studies.”

“Heh.”

Adrestin’s expression sobered, and he smoothed Siv’s tendrils back away from his head. “...We should probably prepare for returning planetside. You do not have to make a decision now as to whether you wish to retrieve your comrade’s bodies yourself or wait until your extraction team arrives, but I do need to find Erion. You do not have to come with me.”

Sivin’s face fell, but he managed to nod. “No, I – I should go.” He laughed, a taste of bitterness evident in his tone. “I can’t avoid it forever, can I?”

Adrestin shook his head and gently lifted Siv by the shoulders, helping him sit up so Adrestin could get out from under the Jedi. “I will be in the cockpit. You are welcome to join me, if you wish.”

 

* * * *

 

Planetside, morning had already come and gone. Neither Astele nor Domthus had gotten much sleep the previous night, both not trusting the darkness when they were still unsure if there were hssiss around. But with the coming of dawn they had finally begun to relax enough that they could drift off into fitful sleep, and it wasn’t until nearly local noon that they managed to wake up.

And it was the sound of engines that woke them. Astele jumped at the noise, still faint enough to know it was kilometers away but loud enough that she instantly recognized the signature hum of her comrade’s ship. She shook Dom’s shoulder hard, jostling him. “Wake up, _wake up_! We need to climb down – Lord Belus just landed the ship over near where your Jedi camp used to be.”

Dom bolted upright and blinked the sleep away from his eyes. “The communicator – what’s its charge say?”

Astele leaned over to snatch it up from its place wedged in the branches. “…Seventy-two percent. If he leaves again before this thing charges, I’m going to kill you.”

Dom was already clamoring down the trunk of the tree. “That doesn’t even _follow_ , but okay, fine. We’re _both_ probably dead if he leaves anyway, if any of those hssiss survived.”

Astele grunted agreement and jumped down to latch on to Dom’s shoulders, tapping his side impatiently with her foot as he slowly climbed down the tree. A little over halfway down and she couldn’t stand it – once she felt the distance wasn’t too great she jumped from Dom’s back, using the Force to slow and cushion her landing. She tore off in the direction that the ship had landed, leaving Dom alone in the tree.

“Hey wait!” He sighed in exasperation and continued climbing down slowly, waiting until he was just a few meters from the ground before dropping. He brushed himself off and ran after her, wondering if all Sith were this impatient.

 

* * * *

 

“How many others did you have?” Adrestin used the Force to gently lift the fourth of the durasteel coffins up the ramp and into the loading bay.

Siv glanced around the remains of the Jedi camp, loosely holding a pair of lightsabers in his hands. “There were…” He wiped at his eyes with the back of his forearm. “There were seven of us, total. But Domthus and Gi’rel were both… swallowed by hssiss. I couldn’t find anything of Dom on the trail, and...” He weighed the sabers in his hands. “And these were all I could find of Gi’rel.”

Adrestin made his way to Sivin’s side. “Do you wish to linger? We can take as much time as you need.”

Siv shook his head. “No, I – I’d rather not. And there’s no telling if there’s still hssiss left. We shouldn’t be on the ground any longer than we need to.”

Adrestin nodded and tucked his arm around Siv’s shoulders, guiding him back to the ship. “Then we should leave quickly. We just need to circle back around to my camp and I can find Erion.”

 

* * * *

 

Astele broke through into the clearing that had been the site of the Jedi’s encampment but just as she screeched to a halt the sleek form of Adrestin’s ship roared overhead, kicking up dust and scattering crushed wildflowers in its wake.

“ _No!”_ Tiny legs furiously pumping, she rushed after it, flailing her arms. But the effort was useless, the ship was already climbing too high and too far for anyone aboard to notice her. In a rage she flew back down the trail she had found Domthus on the night before, propelling herself through the woods so furiously she had no time to stop herself from avoiding the Jedi as he approached from the other direction. She smashed into him with such force they both bowled over, landing in a heap in a patch of ferns next to the trail.

“Get _off_ of me and _out of my way!”_ She shoved him to the side and scrambled to her feet, tearing off again towards her old encampment.

“Wait, where are you –” Dom scrambled to his feet and held up a hand, but she had already spun past him and vanished down the trail. “...Damn it.” He turned back and trotted after her, muttering quietly to himself. “Why can’t she ever sit _still_.”

When he reached the former Sith camp once again, he was surprised to see that the ship that had been in low orbit before had made a landing in the clearing, and the boarding ramp was being lowered as he watched. Astele was shifting from foot to foot at the base, her excitement, apprehension, and relief at being reunited with her fellow Sith easily apparent.

...The same Sith that had caused the devastating obliteration of the shrine the night before. Domthus took a step back beneath the cover of a patch of ferns. The boarding ramp lowered to the ground, and climbing down from the ship was the largest reptilian sentient Dom had ever seen. He had the sunbursts of Dark Side corruption in all four of his eyes, and the quiet menace of his power radiated from him with every step he took.

The moment he disembarked Astele had flung herself into his arms, tears of relief already streaking the fur under her eyes. He caught her up and held her close, and even from where Dom crouched in hiding he could hear – or rather, feel – a low but intense vibration coming from the Sith. He didn’t set her down immediately, just held her tucked up under his chin for a long moment. The awed confusion was evident in his voice when he finally spoke. “...Where did you come from, Astele? I… I thought you dead.”

Her response was muffled, but Dom assumed she had just quickly recapped how she had survived her ordeal. The Sith set her down on the ground and crouched beside her, their conversation too quiet for Dom to hear what they were saying from his hiding place. Then Astele pulled away from her friend and looked around, and almost at once her gaze fastened on Dom’s hiding place. She pointed, and the Sith locked eyes directly with him.

His nerves failed him and he stood rooted to the spot where he crouched, frozen in fear. He could see the Sith murmur something else to Astele and gesture in his direction. Astele looked confused and then shocked, but he simply nodded once at her and swept back into his ship. Astele turned and approached Dom’s hiding place, look of baffled amazement still fixed on her face. “Hey – Domthus? Dom?” She peered into the ferns where he hid. “You’re really bad about concealing your presence in the Force, by the way. But – anyway, look, come on out. There’s something you should know.”

Dom shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere near him, he’s a _Sith._ ”

She rolled her eyes. _“I’m_ a Sith too, dumbass. Belus isn’t going to _eat you_ , now get out of the bushes and come _with_ me.”

Again Dom shook his head, this time more emphatically. He was just about to just simply bolt when the Sith emerged from the ship again, and this time another was with him.

But it was no fellow Sith. Sivin came out from under the shadow of the ship and glanced around, following the Sith’s pointing finger as he indicated Dom’s position. Siv’s eyes widened, and in a heartbeat he was rushing up to thrust ferns out of his way. “Dom? Dom!”

A cry of surprise and relief burst from Dom as he jumped up and ran the remaining few meters to meet Sivin. He was caught up in a near-lung-crushing hug before being returned to his feet, Sivin still gripping his shoulders and staring down at him with tears of relief streaming down his face. “Oh Dom, I thought you were dead. I saw the hssiss – you were _gone!_ I thought –” He just shook his head and wiped furiously at his eyes.

Dom gripped the hands on his shoulders and smiled up at his commander, face matching tear for tear. “I thought – I thought the hssiss must have gotten you too, since no one was around when I came to. I’m so glad you’re alright, Sivin, I…” he choked before could continue, “I didn’t know what to do.”

“I didn’t either, kiddo.” He squeezed Dom’s shoulders before releasing him, suddenly awkward. “The… the bodies of the rest of our team are in the hold. It’s a long story, but Adres– _Lord Belus_ will return us to our extraction team when they arrive.”

The massive Sith approached them, beckoning Astele to his side as he did so. “Your Jedi friend may call me Adrestin as well, if they wish. What is your name, little one? You are one of the few in BrightWatch I do not know of.”

Dom just stared up at Adrestin with huge eyes, face turning a paler shade of purple-grey. Sivin hooked an arm around Dom’s shoulders, the motion attempting to be both reassuring and protective at the same time. “This is Domthus, he’s been with BrightWatch for all of about two months. Dom, say hello to Adrestin. He actually saved my life. He won’t hurt you.” Though he said it with confidence in his voice he flicked worried eyes up at Adrestin, silently asking for his words to be true.

Adrestin crouched down in front of the frightened Jedi. “He speaks honestly. I will not hurt you. Astele has just informed me how you have helped her survive the night, and for that I thank you.”

Dom managed a nod.

“Either way, we should probably move on.” Sivin patted Dom’s arm, directing the rest of his words to Adrestin. “We don’t know if there are hssiss still around, and we still have to find your friend’s body.”

Adrestin nodded. “If there are any of the hssiss left, it is unlikely that they would emerge in the daylight. But I would like to find Erion as soon as possible, regardless.”

Astele tugged on Adrestin’s belt, pointing beyond a grove of trees. “They would... have been thrown somewhere over there. I think.”

“I see.” He glanced back at the two Jedi and again at Astele. “I would like to do this alone. If I have need of anyone, I will call.”

Astele nodded and watched as Adrestin slipped off into the trees before shuffling over to stand beside Dom. “...I hope he finds them.”

Dom frowned. “Who is he looking for?”

She shook her head, ears flattening in sadness. “...My Master Erion. They were the last one to die when we were attacked. Both they and Adrestin were trying to protect me when… when it happened.” She twisted the hem of her shirt in her hands, anger blossoming around her. “I _hate_ hssiss.”

Dom reached out and squeezed her arm, but before she could push him away they heard a shout from the trees. “ _Astele!_ Sivin! Here, quickly!”

Both jumped at the call and ran in the direction of Adrestin’s voice, with Dom following close behind. Mere moments later they practically stumbled over where Adrestin sat crouched on the ground, arms wrapped around the body of an armored Ubese.

Or what remained of one. Bloodied hollows were all that was left of their legs and right arm, and the thin torso lay limply in Adrestin’s hold. The hollows where limbs had once been had been cauterized, the smell of burnt flesh still lingering faintly in the air. Astele dropped to her knees beside the body, openly sobbing as she took hold of the one remaining hand, curled into a fist with a lightsaber still tight within their grip.

“They’re alive.” Adrestin looked from Astele to Sivin with watery eyes, weak smile briefly ghosting over his face. The slow, infinitesimal rise and fall of the Ubese’s chest proved Adrestin’s words. “They’re _alive_ , and I need one of you to run and prep the life support equipment on the ship.”

Eyes wide at the announcement of her Master’s miraculous survival, Astele nodded once before dashing off to the ship.

Dom stared slack-jawed at the body in Adrestin’s arms, amazed that they still lived, albeit barely. “Will they… be okay?”

Adrestin rose to his feet with care, ensuring he was cradling Erion’s head close to his chest and that no pressure was being placed unduly on their ugly wounds. “That depends largely on luck, little one. Go, help her.”

Dom nodded and backed up a few steps before turning to run after Astele, leaving Adrestin and Siv alone with Erion.

Adrestin’s presence shimmered in the Force, dark waves of cold power washing over him and his companion in his arms. The dim blue glow of Dark Side healing sprang to life from Adrestin’s hands, enveloping Erion’s body with the power of the Force and penetrating the wounds they had suffered. Siv could feel Adrestin’s grief and rage over the state of his friend take metaphysical form in the dark energy all around him, and he couldn’t help but shudder.

“I must hurry.” The pleading tone in Adrestin’s voice sounded out of place, but genuine. “Please, help me get them on board. We may not have much time.”


	6. In Which Jedi And Sith Are Discussed By Jedi And Sith, And A Game Of Dejarik Is Played

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erion has some things to say about our rescued Jedi. Adrestin has some things to say to Sivin. A lot of things are said. A game of dejarik is played. Nothing is conclusive.

Adrestin sat hunched next to the life-support system, running the clawed fingers of one hand delicately through Erion’s short dark hair. He had been forced to cut the Ubese out of the tattered remains of their enviro-suit, and now Erion lay with a rebreather unit strapped over their mouth and nose. The rattle and hiss of the equipment was the only sound in the room as Adrestin reached his free hand out to trace the patterns etched into Erion’s scarred fingers on their one remaining limb.

It had taken the four of them over three hours to get Erion stable, with too many moments to count where Adrestin had thought he’d lost them. Using the Dark Side to heal what he could for such a long stretch at a time had cost Adrestin a lot of energy and a lot of strength. He felt raw and ragged at the edges, stretched too thin in the Force.

But Erion lived. And they would recover. Adrestin took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, letting the relief of that thought wash over him. He leaned down to place a gentle kiss on Erion’s forehead, smiling softly down at his friend.

Sunken, bleary eyes blinked up at him, but their corners crinkled up when they met Adrestin’s gaze. Erion gurgled into the rebreather, coughed once, then finally managed to make words. <You found me.>

“Always.” Adrestin brushed again at Erion’s hair. “Though there were many times I thought I had lost you. This is not a habit I regard as beneficial to form.”

The respirator click-wheezed in what might have been a short laugh. <I will take that under consideration.>

Adrestin smiled, nodded. “Does talking hurt?”

<No.> Erion flexed what remained of their shoulders back, trying to adjust their position. <It was not my lungs that suffered forced removal.>

Slipping hands carefully under Erion, Adrestin shifted them into a more comfortable spot. “Would you tell me what happened?”

Another gurgle in the respirator. <Little to tell. They tore me apart. I flatlined my presence in the Force to mask my life signs, the hssiss left me for dead. I used my saber to cauterize my wounds. I waited. If you lived, I knew you would come.>

“Thank you for your patience.” He took Erion’s remaining hand in both of his own and leaned forward to kiss their scarred fingers. “I only wish I could have defended you. I should have been faster than that. I _am_ faster than that.”

A look of irritation crossed Erion’s face and they flicked Adrestin’s nose, hard. <You had five hssiss surrounding you, Belus. They swept you away. It was not possible to protect me. I hate the guilt in your voice, stop it.>

A weak smile as Adrestin rubbed his snout. “I consider myself reprimanded.”

<Good. Now tell me why there are Jedi on your ship.>

“Ah. The Jedi.” He leaned up to adjust some of the switches and dials on the life-support unit, dampening the sounds of hisses and clicks and sending an adjusted atmosphere mix to Erion’s rebreather. “You heard me mention Sivin Ikalruq earlier. The little Elomin with him is named Domthus, and from what I can gather he is either still a Padawan or has only just recently become a Knight.”

<I don’t care who they are. What are they doing on your ship?>

Adrestin raised an eyebrow. “Well since you have stated that it is indeed _my ship,_ don’t you think I have a say in who I bring aboard?”

Erion just grunted. <Belus.>

Adrestin sighed and rubbed a hand over his lower pair of eyes. “I saved Sivin’s life from a hssiss when we were planetside. The Sithspawn decimated every member of his team save himself and Domthus, and I had sympathy for him. And it turns out that Domthus aided Astele in surviving the night – I had already left with Sivin in tow, believing both you and she had perished. Sivin and I only found Astele and Domthus alive when we returned to collect the bodies of his team.”

Erion’s eyes narrowed. <...You have Jedi bodies in the hold.>

“Yes. Their extraction team arrives in a few hours, I will return their comrades' bodies to them then.”

Erion pressed their eyes shut and took in a slow inhalation of atmosphere from the rebreather, exasperation clearly mounting. <I realize the extraction team is not a threat. Not to you, nor to me or Astele, with you here to protect us. But your impulses are dangerous. They are Jedi, not pets. You cannot tame them.>

Adrestin shook his head. “I do not wish to tame them. But I will keep my own council on my impulses.”

<You always have. I will never understand your philosophical whimsy. When it extends to doing favors for Jedi, I begin to wonder about you and your fine sensibilities.>

 _That_ got Adrestin to laugh. “And that, dear friend, is why An-Drend would never allow you to accompany me inside.”

<Good. Your glorified library can keep its secrets.> But the corners of Erion’s eyes crinkled up in a smile.

Adrestin returned the smile, but it slowly faded. “...Those Jedi assisted in stabilizing you, Erion. If I had not had their help, you would not be alive at this moment. And I am probably going to need their help to treat you later, as well.”

A gurgle in the rebreather. <...I will attempt to reserve further judgment. But I do not owe them anything. And I still do not like having them on board.>

“Eri, you don’t like having _anyone_ on board. But thank you, that is all I can ask. Time will tell how this will play out.”

<Time will tell.>

There came a soft tap at the door, and Astele poked her head in. “Lord Belus? Dom and I were wondering if – Master, you’re awake!” She shoved open the door the rest of the way and rushed to Erion’s side. “I was so worried, we were trying so hard to get you stable but you kept slipping, if we hadn’t had help you would have – stars, you look _awful._ ”

Erion snorted, the noise sounding metallic through the equipment. <Your manners still need work, Apprentice.>

Astele just rubbed an arm over her eyes and nodded as she grinned. “I promise I’ll work on them if it means you’ll still be there to teach me.”

<Do not make promises you know you will not keep.> But their words held no harshness. Erion reached their remaining hand towards Astele, and she took it with both of hers. <You had a question for Lord Belus when you came in. Tell him what it is.>

Astele turned so she could look at both Adrestin and Erion at the same time, but her words were still addressed to her Master. “Actually it’s for you, now that you’re awake. Dom and I were wondering if we could start putting together some mechanical limbs for you. I have a million components in my room, I’m sure I could come up with something really amazing.” She paused, ears flattening a little to the sides. “I mean. Until we can get you to a _real_ prosthetics technician, I guess.”

A clicking wheeze from Erion’s rebreather indicated rare Ubese laughter. <I would trust no one else in the Sith Empire to fashion me a replacement arm. I do not require new legs. Ungainly. A repulsorlift body carriage could prove useful instead. It would encourage the learning of Trispzest variations.>

“And so you finally will learn how to fly.” Adrestin smiled warmly down at his friend. “Already turning a terrible situation to your advantage, I see.”

<I have no use for moping.> They flicked their gaze back to Astele. <I approve of this endeavor, Apprentice, but I do not approve of this _Jedi_ assisting you. >

Astele rolled her eyes. “He’s already proven pretty good with electronics – he helped me get my communicator back together when we were stranded down there, it was even his idea. And it’s not like I wouldn’t be watching him. Besides, he’s barely a Jedi."

Erion’s eyes narrowed. <Define ‘barely a Jedi’.>

She shrugged. “He doesn’t know the real world if it smacked him upside his horns. Never even _met_ a Sith before, much less know how to _fight_ one. And I mean yeah, he burns like a Jedi, but he actually _feels_ things. It’s weird.”

Adrestin and Erion exchanged looks, and Astele huffed. _“What?”_

“Perhaps that is a discussion for another time.” Adrestin reached a hand out to rest on Erion’s forehead. “If Astele is supervising the young Jedi and if she ensures that he is not assisting with the fine-tuning of vital components, would it be that bad of an idea? It would keep him occupied while he is aboard my ship.”

Erion gurgled into their respirator. <I will not owe anything to a Jedi.>

“It was his idea.” Astele crossed her arms and scowled at her Master. “It was his idea to try to help. It’s like he has no clue we’re supposed to be _enemies_. He talks about Sith and Jedi like they’re just concepts in _books_ instead of what’s happening out in the real world. I don’t think he even realizes they’re actual _things_ and that he’s right in the _middle_ of them.”

Adrestin let out a short laugh. “That sounds very much like a sheltered Padawan to me. How much of a threat can he be, Eri?”

<Hardly a threat,> Erion scoffed. <But I still do not like it. Have him assist you if you wish. Keep close watch on what he does. But I will owe him _nothing._ >

“Fine, fine.” Astele jumped up and ran for the door. “Thanks Master – we’ll get started right away!” And then she was gone.

Adrestin met Erion’s eyes once again, and he chuckled. “She is going to do what she’s going to do whether or not you approve, anyway.”

<I am very much aware,> Erion said dryly. <She is reaching the point of uncontrollable. Perhaps she would benefit from a different teacher.>

“Perhaps, but she still needs you now.” He patted Erion’s hand. “I should let you rest. Do you need anything?”

<An absolute minimum of two hours of quiet and three bottles of Forvish Ale.>

Adrestin laughed. “The first I can give you, and I will look into the second. Here, let’s configure your atmosphere generator for the best comfort, and then I’ll let you get some rest. I’ll check in on you again in a few hours.”

 

* * * *

 

Adrestin emerged from the med bay to see Astele and Dom sitting cross-legged on the floor of the common area surrounded by screws, wires, bits of metal, and strangely-shaped pieces that he hadn’t the foggiest idea what they did. The two had been rapidly swapping parts between them, chattering in what sounded almost like a foreign language with phrases like “jump servos” and “antigrav modulators” and “rocker-panel cotter pins” peppering their sentences, but as soon as Adrestin entered the room Dom froze up and just stared at him. Adrestin tried to ignore him as he passed by, but it was hard not to be keenly aware of the wide white eyes following him as he moved across the common area.

Astele punched Dom lightly in the shoulder to get his attention. “Hey, I was talking to you.”

Dom jumped and rubbed at his arm. “Right, sorry, what were you saying?”

She rolled her eyes and pointed to the part she had been talking about, picking up where she had left off.

Sivin sat at the dejarik table watching them with a soft smile on his face, and Adrestin slid in to sit beside him. Siv gestured towards the two on the floor. “Enthusiastic, aren’t they?”

“I cannot understand a word they are saying, but it appears as though they have already made significant progress in… what, ten minutes?”

Siv nodded. “I can get the gist of most of it, but it’s still a little over my head. Your apprentice there is real talented. She mentioned a few minutes ago that she thinks she can get a functioning prototype of a repulsor harness done in three or four hours.”

“She is Erion’s apprentice. She only defers to me because I am technically Erion’s immediate superior.” He chuckled. “Although from the way I get scolded, you would imagine it the other way around.”

“Ah, gotcha. She just talks about you like you’re pretty close.”

Adrestin nodded and leaned over to flick the switch on the dejarik table, bringing the board to life. “Erion and I have both known her since she was an infant. Her family has a strong line of Force-sensitives, and they maintain equally strong Sith traditions. Even before she became old enough to make the official decision, she had been pestering one or the other of us to take her as Apprentice.”

“Huh.” Sivin shifted around so he could see the pieces on the board better. “Why didn’t you take her?”

“She would have been bored. She would have spent far too much time in vaults and libraries, and her spirit is much too fiery to keep her cooped up indoors for long. Erion is a much better choice – they often get sent to frontier worlds to assess potential breaches in perimeters or to investigate unidentified or unusual signatures in the Force. So instead of taking her on as full Apprentice, I just supplement her lightsaber training.” He moved one of the pieces on his side of the board and raised an eyebrow in invitation to play.

Sivin took him up on the unspoken offer and moved his own piece in response. “Looks like you got taken along for the ride then too, if you’re out here now.”

“Our situation is a bit of a happy accident. Sometimes Erion discovers old Sith repositories, and I am ever eager to study literature or inscriptions I have not had the opportunity to read before. So at first I would come whenever they contacted me to inform me of such discoveries.” He shifted his M’onnok to engage Sivin’s K’lor’slug. “In the end it just became easier to use my ship. Aside from the addition or subtraction of a few other Sith on occasion, we usually just travel together.”

Sivin scratched a tendril in response to Adrestin’s last move before trying one of his own. “So now you’re like the weird evil Sith uncle teaching your precocious evil Sith niece about laser swords and trying to get her to read more.”

Adrestin smirked. “’Evil Sith uncle’. I’ll choose to ignore your attempt at facetiousness. That being said, yes. Strange to hear a Jedi use familial allusions, but yes. I suppose the comparison is... roughly accurate.” His M’onnok defeated the K’lor’slug, but it was left wide open to Sivin’s Grimtaash Molator. “Your move.”

Sivin eyed the board. “You just set me up to win, Adrestin.”

“Did I?” The Sith’s eyes glittered, and he rose from the table. “I believe I should prepare us some food. Perhaps that wroche stew I suggested earlier?”

He ambled over to the galley, studiously ignoring the sudden stare of Dom as he passed. Sivin snickered at his fellow Jedi’s reaction to the Sith, shaking his head as he looked down to study the board Adrestin had left. Indeed, the Molator would have easily taken Adrestin’s M’onnok piece and left Adrestin’s Mantellian Savrip without support, which would normally have guaranteed Siv a victory with only Adrestin’s most helpless piece left on the board to take. But without the M'onnok on the board it rendered Siv’s own Houjix and Ghhhk useless.

 _Stalemat_ _e._ Siv glanced up and caught Adrestin watching him study the board. The Sith raised one scaly eyebrow and the corner of his mouth turned up before he turned his attention back to sautéing wroches, giving Sivin the strong impression there was something else he was supposed to be noticing. He shrugged and got up, stepping carefully around the mess Astele and Dom were making on the floor to make his way into the galley. “Need any help?”

Adrestin shook his head. “The day I require assistance in the kitchen is the day I will hang up my lightsabers, for surely my hands will have been cut off.” He quirked a brief smile at Siv before turning his attention to rifling through a spice rack. “But thank you for the offer. And I certainly do not mind the company.”

“Just let me know if I get in your way.” Siv slipped over to the other side where Adrestin seemed less busy, and leaned back to prop his elbows behind him on the counter.

“Mm.” He turned over the browning wroches and peppered them with a savory smelling herb. “We have approximately eight more hours before your extraction team arrives. How should we plan on making this work, without anyone drawing lightsabers or otherwise making an already awkward situation even more ungainly?”

Sivin’s heart sank. He hadn’t been thinking about his extraction team at all, if he were honest with himself. He had allowed himself instead to let his guard down around a Sith, _befriend_ him even, and outside of his immediate team he hadn’t spared a second thought for the Jedi Order or the Council. Or even the code, considering how quickly he had let Adrestin comfort him and encourage him to ignore the Jedi’s tenets of serenity in the face of bereavement. If the Order caught wind of any of that, he could be considered a gave security risk, a danger to other missions and other Jedi – or worse, a traitor to the Order.

Adrestin had set aside the wroches in the stewing pot, and was watching Sivin quietly. Siv’s preoccupation must have been written all over his face, because Adrestin looked just as worried as the Jedi suddenly felt.

“Are you alright, Siv?”

“Yeah, I’m just...” He shook his head and ran his hands through his head tendrils, shaking them vigorously in a vain attempt to clear the mental clutter from his brain. “I’m just not thinking of anything useful that might help. I mean, short of flat-out lying there’s not going to be an easy way to deal with the extraction team. They’re BrightWatch – they’re _my people_ – aside from a few like Dom I’ve handpicked most of them. That means they’re all going to be pretty enthusiastic about blowing up Sith things and killing Sith.”

Adrestin slowly nodded. “I find it fortunate that you yourself turned out to be a little more receptive than that.”

Siv scrubbed his hands over his face. “ _Aaaaugh_. Yeah. That. It’s not exactly a good thing, you know.”

Adrestin just raised an eyebrow.

“Look. It’s not every day I get my ass handed to me by a horde of evil Sithspawn lizards and then _saved_ by a kriffing _Sith Lord_. Everything about our entire situation is outside of the ordinary and just... _weird,_ okay? _Weird_. And I can’t really expect the rest of my team to understand that, _or_ the circumstances surrounding that.”

“I see.” Adrestin turned back to the stew, stirring in the vegetables and a few more spices before covering it with a lid to simmer. “So as their commanding officer, can you not simply just order them to cooperate with us? I am not asking for miracles, just enough time to transfer your team’s bodies to their hold without undue incident.”

Sivin shook his head. “It _should_ work that way, but it won’t. The Jedi Order doesn’t really function entirely on a military model. Regardless of rank or order of command, we’re always watching each other to make sure no one falls to the Dark Side, or shows signs of being susceptible.”

Adrestin’s eyes narrowed. “Signs up to and including sharing space willingly with a Sith Lord. I understand.”

Sivin flinched. “I’m not trying to blame you for anything, Adrestin–”

“I am not angry with _you,_ Siv,” he held up a hand to stave off more backpedaling, “but I am less than impressed when the Jedi Order itself, an organization that prides itself on trust and honesty if its propaganda posters and own history and philosophy books are to be believed, does not even trust the loyalty of one of their most celebrated adherents. You are famous on both sides, Sivin Ikalruq. Famous for your loyalty to the Jedi Order and famous for burning bright in the Light Side of the Force. Even now you shine so brilliantly you are almost blinding.”

Siv blinked, his tendrils twitching in surprised embarrassment. “I, uh… Wow, thanks. That’s… I didn’t know.”

“You should know. You should have known for years, and I am baffled that the Order would not have ensured that you were aware of how strong in the Light Side of the Force you really are. If they would _ever_ doubt that, they are fools.” He adjusted the heat on the stew and set the timer before turning to face Siv fully, all four eyes focusing in on the Jedi as he took his shoulders in his clawed hands. “Sivin. Only an utter fool would doubt your word. And only the heir to the throne of the _kingdom_ of fools would doubt your loyalty to the Light.”

Siv gave him a weak smile. “Unfortunately not everyone will see things that way. Simply being here, willingly, could indicate a slip towards the Dark Side. Some would say it would have been better for me to have chosen to die planetside, than be taken in by a Sith. If I had been truly listening to the Light, the will of the Force should have prevented me from accepting any help from the other side.”

Adrestin made an irritated _gurgle-click_ in the back of his throat. “I hate to ruin your theory, but the Force had _no_ bearing on whether or not we befriended each other.” He gently squeezed Siv’s shoulders. “I look at you, and I see someone _worth_ showing kindness to, despite my affiliation’s insistence that kindness never be expressed. You look at me and see someone who allows you to mourn without judgment, despite _your_ affiliation’s insistence that mourning is not even necessary. And all that? It has _everything_ to do with people reaching out to each other, and _nothing_ to do with the Force.”

Siv gave Adrestin a fleeting smile and nodded, wanting to accept everything he was hearing but unable to bring himself to fully believe it was true.

Adrestin’s eyes flicked over Sivin’s head back towards the common area, and even though he had been rather quiet before his voice dropped even further. “...We’ve had an audience.”

Sivin turned to see Astele and Dom both staring quietly over at them from where they sat among their piles of electronics and wires. They both quickly looked away when they realized they had been caught, and the chatter of mechanical lingo started up again in earnest between them.

Sivin sighed. “I know you’re trying to help, and I appreciate it. But I still don’t know what to do about my extraction team.”

Adrestin nodded, releasing Siv’s shoulders. “Short of lying, it doesn’t seem as though we have many options. I could set you back down planetside and you can explain that a Sith ship arrived and destroyed the shrine themselves before you could get to it – which would not actually be a lie. Though that would leave the explanation of the caskets your comrades are in up in the air. Perhaps a passing salvage ship took pity on you and provided them to you before leaving. How receptive would your team be to a partial truth?”

Siv managed a weak laugh. “It might just work. After what happened…” He shook himself, not really wanting to think about it again, “after what happened, I don’t think anyone will really want to ask me too many complicated questions. Usually everyone gives me a wide berth when I’ve… when I’ve lost someone.”

Adrestin nodded, reaching out a hand to rub Siv’s arm. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just… Look I’m not trying to avoid it this time, I’m just really tired of crying. I might… I might fall apart later, but not now and not here, okay?”

“Okay.” He inclined his head towards the two still having an animated conversation in the common area as they tinkered with parts. “The stew needs nearly three hours to simmer. Shall we see if our comrades require any assistance, in the meantime? I may not speak their mechanically-inclined language, but I can follow direction. Provided the instructions are translated into simple Basic.”

Sivin let out a shaky but genuine laugh. “That actually sounds like a great idea. Let’s see what we can do to help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While dejarik has a few things that exist in canon for the pieces of the board themselves and a few descriptions of possible moves, it has no actual rules that have been published by official sources, so I'm going by what I remember coming up with myself when I ran a Star Wars tabletop RPG. Since I don't think it ever really comes up again in story, here's the significance: the M'onnok has a mythological role as a herald of the beginning of a perilous but ultimately fulfilling and rewarding journey. Its piece on the dejarik board is not a strong one, but it is strategically significant because only when the piece is in particular positions can other pieces be at their most effective, and in the case of several of the opponent's pieces, be even useful at all. Adrestin is using the piece almost exclusively, in an attempt to highlight Sivin's own beginning of a journey he may not yet be aware of. He deliberately manipulates the board so that the M'onnok is vulnerable to Sivin's Grimtaash the Molator piece. Grimtaash is another piece with mythological significance - it is a spirit of protection for the royal house of Alderaan, shielding the house from corruption and internal strife. This is Adrestin's way of asking whether Sivin is going to use his own role as a Jedi, a self-appointed "protector", to strike down the opportunity to set out on an important, potentially life-changing journey. In so doing he may remove the threat, but he also cripples himself, and nobody wins the game. 
> 
> I didn't really cover all of this in-story because obviously I already know it, and technically I'm writing this thing for me, so I didn't feel the need to forcibly cram it into the story itself. Buuuuut I realize that if anyone else by-chance is reading this thing and is finding it enjoyable, they obviously won't have the same memories of my RPG and it can only behoove me to have at least SOME sort of explanation, so here we are. I mean. I'll TRY to work it into the story later on, maybe, but just in case. Have an overly-involved explanation.


	7. In Which A Humorous Thing Happens Before The Extraction Team Arrives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astele and Dom are in their element tinkering with mechanical things. Food is eaten, shenanigans ensue, Erion disapproves of everything, Adrestin and Sivin have another bonding moment, and then...

Nearly three hours of putting things together, taking them apart, and putting them back together again, and Astele – with Dom’s help – had managed to construct a strange contraption that looked partway between a chair and a jetpack. Sivin and Adrestin had attempted to give them some assistance, but halfway through Adrestin had given up and merely sat back to watch the others work.

But now Astele jumped to her feet and proudly pushed the equipment over to where Adrestin sat, presenting it to him with a flourish. “Check it out. Eri’s going to look so badass in this thing.”

He tilted his head to one side, studying the machine. “ _‘Master Erion’,_ Astele. And… yes, I am inclined to believe you, although I’m having a hard time envisioning how it fits on an actual body.”

Her ears flattened for a second, but perked right back up as she grinned. “We can test it out on Dom! He’s about Master Erion’s size, or at least closer than any of the rest of us.”

Upon hearing her suggestion, Dom paled where he sat on the floor next to Sivin. “Wait, what _exactly_ are we testing out and how?”

Astele’s grin grew wider, and she flipped a switch on what Adrestin assumed was the hand control. It emitted a soft hum, and with a slight lurch the whole contraption rose a little less than a meter into the air. “Perfect. Just strap yourself in, Dom. You get to take it for a test flight.”

Dom blinked. “In _here?_ Astele, I know the ceiling is high, but what if –”

“It’ll be fine! What, don’t you trust my work? Or your own?”

Dom muttered something unintelligible under his breath, but got up anyway. “My life is in your hands.”

She laughed, jabbing him in the ribs with a tiny finger when he came to stand beside her. “It has been from the start, dumbass. Get in, get in!”

Dom conceded and made his way over to where she stood, giving Adrestin a wide-eyed stare as he edged around him. He unbuckled the harness in front to climb inside the equipment, focusing intently on getting situated properly while trying to ignore Adrestin’s proximity and fumbling with the straps when he failed.

Astele rolled her eyes at him and snatched the buckles out of his hands to strap him in herself. “How many times am I going to have to tell you he’s not going to eat you, get over it.” She snapped the last buckle into place and slapped him on his shoulder. “Alright, you remember the configuration of the controls?”

He huffed, horns discolouring in indignant embarrassment. “Of course I do, they were my idea.”

“Then get to it! I want to see this baby _fly.”_

Dom threw a significant look over at where Sivin was still seated on the floor, but Siv just smiled and gestured for him to try it. Dom sighed and closed his eyes for a minute, focusing his center in the Force and letting himself feel it course through him. He slowly opened his eyes and reached out with a mental nudge to activate the repulsor harness.

He promptly tipped sideways and rose three meters into the air, stopping only because his back met the ceiling. And there he stayed, slowly spinning in a circle as the repulsor field tried to make sense of the input it had just received.

Astele burst into giggles. “Stars, Dom, what are you _doing?”_

“I can’t help it! I think –” he flailed in the harness, “I think the input sensors aren’t fine-tuned enough, they must have shorted with that nudge in the Force – _come on,_ can you just get me _down?”_

Astele was near tears, she was laughing so hard. “As if – as if I could reach you!”

“Sivin, help!” Dom pleaded down at his fellow Jedi as he slowly drifted across the ceiling, turning in circles as he floated towards the highest point. “I’m going to end up bumping into something important, I know it –”

Siv made a valiant effort to wipe the grin off his face and jumped to his feet. “Yeah, hold on, I got you.” He stretched to grab for Dom, but even his height wasn’t enough to reach him now. He looked over at Adrestin and gestured. “Hey. Tall guy. A little help, eh?”

Adrestin quirked a corner of his mouth and stood up, making his way over to stand underneath where Dom was drifting across the ceiling. With his additional height, he could easily reach the little Jedi. Dom paled as Adrestin approached, eyes becoming saucers when he came to a stop below him.

Adrestin hesitated, then slowly reached out to him. “Easy now. I will not hurt you. Come on, take my hands. I’ll get you down.”

For a long moment nothing seemed to get through those huge white eyes. But ever so slowly, Dom finally reached out trembling hands and grasped Adrestin’s own.

“There now, you’re okay. That’s not so bad, is it?” Adrestin pulled him down gently, holding him down closer to the floor to get within the other Sith’s reach. “Astele, switch this off so he can get out of it.”

She promptly obeyed, her fit of giggles still in the process of dissipating. “Stars, I wish I had a holocamera. That was priceless.”

Dom unbuckled himself from the harness in record time and jumped away from Adrestin before shaking himself off. “It’s not – it works, it just needs some tweaking.” He stuck out his lower lip and made a face at Astele. “Next time _you_ test it.”

As the two bickered and started rewiring a few panels, Adrestin slipped back onto the bench at the dejarik table next to where Sivin had settled. He smirked at the Jedi. “You could have used the Force to pull him down, you know.”

“Yeah, I could have.” Siv grinned. “But I don’t think Dom’s going to learn you’re not going to hurt him unless it’s pretty obviously demonstrated. The kid’s terrified of you.”

“So I have noticed. Though it is not an irrational feeling for a young Jedi to have of a Sith Lord.”

“Yeah, but you’re different.”

Adrestin gazed at Siv, head tilted quizzically to the side. “Am I?”

“Of _course_ you are, you’re...” Siv waved a hand in the air. “You’re _nice_. You’re _kind._ Even your fellow _Sith_ like you, and most of the time Sith _hate_ each other.”

Adrestin’s scaly brows rose. “Who told you that?”

“No one _told_ me that, I see it all the time. Being a Sith iconoclast means I actually do run into Sith often enough it’s almost part of the routine.”

“Then clearly you have not been running into anyone I know,” he said dryly, “But I will concede that Sith often treat each other with cut-throat ruthlessness if they see an opportunity. There is a common assumption of kill or be killed, but I do rather prefer that honest assessment of our nature than a ruse of doing terrible things to someone ‘for their own good’ that… others tend to use.”

“Others, meaning Jedi.” Siv scowled and crossed his arms.

Adrestin inclined his head. “As you say. But that is what I see. And as a Sith Lord, I am not privy to seeing the complicated internal workings of personal interactions between Jedi, as a rule. I concede that my view is severely partial and is under no circumstances to be mistaken for the whole.”

“Well we’re not all like that.”

“And neither are we.”

“Point.” Sivin rubbed at his forehead. “People are way too complicated.”

“Indeed. Although I must admit I do find it rather –”

A loud shriek from Astele made both Adrestin and Sivin jump, but it was a noise of delight. “It’s working _great_ _!_ I should make one of these for myself!”

Balanced precariously inside the harness that was too large to secure her body, Astele glided across the common area in an erratic zig-zag. Her tongue stuck out of her mouth in concentration as she used the Force to guide the harness, raw glee written all across her face while she tore around the room and narrowly avoided ramming into the supply cabinet and the life support ductwork.

Adrestin stepped up to catch her and the contraption as she zipped by, and pulled her back down to the floor. “I think we only need _one_ airborne Sith on this ship, thank you. If you have this thing to yourself for more than five minutes, I will not have a ship _left.”_

She rolled her eyes at him, but complied when he ushered her out of the harness. “You’re no fun. So when can we wake up Master Erion and see what they think of it?”

“Right about now, I imagine. The stew should be ready, so perhaps we shall eat _first_ , and then we can introduce your Master to their new mode of locomotion.”

Astele’s ears dropped again, and she let out a dramatic sigh. “Yes, sir.”

Adrestin favoured her with a smile and patted her shoulder before making his way down the hall that led to the crew’s quarters. He tapped lightly on Erion’s door, waiting for the little green indicator light to allow him entrance. It popped on and he peeked in, calling softly. “Eri? It’s been about three hours, and I made wroche stew. Astele has already managed to put together a working prototype repulsor harness for you to inspect, but I am insisting we eat first before she pesters you about testing it out.”

<Wroche stew, you say.> Erion beckoned with their remaining hand for Adrestin to come in. <I do not need to hear anything else. Help me up.>

Adrestin made his way over to his friend and knelt down to connect their respirator to the portable unit beside the bed, strapping it carefully around Erion’s torso. Once they were free of the connection tubes he tucked an arm around them, pulling them up to fit easily in the crook of his elbow. “Am I hurting anything, or putting too much pressure anywhere uncomfortable?”

Erion’s eyes narrowed. <Despite all appearances, I am hardly fragile.>

“Yes, I am aware. But it is in my nature to fuss over you and be overbearing. Now, shall we eat?”

 

* * * *

 

The stew was delicious, their meal relatively awkward and quiet but pleasant. While Sivin cleaned up the galley the rest of the unlikely companions gathered in the common area to help Erion into their new repulsor harness. Astele got out a mini hydrospanner to make on-the-spot tweaks to accommodate the respirator unit, and with Dom’s extra pair of hands to help they made quick work of the adjustments. Within a half an hour Erion was hovering beside the dejarik table, easily feeling out and manipulating the controls through the Force. <Far better than limbs, Apprentice. Though I still require a second arm. I would be pleased for you to fashion me one.>

Astele’s face broke out into a wide grin, and she nodded enthusiastically. “Dom and I can get right on it! We still have a ton of parts.” She swept a hand towards the mess still scattered over half the common area’s floor. “I set a bunch of them aside just for that, but I used all of the organo-mechanic adapters we had on the harness. We’ll have to get more before I can attach anything.”

<It can wait.> They flicked slitted eyes over to Dom. <And you do not require his assistance for that.>

Dom squirmed awkwardly under Erion’s intense glare, but Astele just groaned and rolled her eyes. “You know you’re always telling me my initiative is what made you want to take me on as Apprentice. Well this is initiative. I _like_ Dom, he’s _useful_. A little stupid around the edges, but _useful.”_

Dom muttered under his breath. “Thanks.”

Astele ignored him. “He already helped me put together your harness. He’s not going to _sabotage_ anything with me right here to watch him, I bet he doesn’t even know _how._ Besides, weren’t you _just_ telling me _yesterday_ that I had a lot to learn about Jedi? So won’t having him around make me learn about Jedi?”

Erion gurgled annoyance into their respirator. <This is unwise.>

“Wisdom is for philosophers,” she pouted. “And Lord Belus is a philosopher and _he_ likes Dom.”

Erion zeroed their glare in on Adrestin, who held his hands up to mock-shield himself from his friend’s anger. “I have already said I believe he is harmless. Perhaps you would benefit from supervising the two of them work on the arm prosthetics yourself, if you are concerned.”

Erion sighed. <I am clearly in the minority.> They nodded sharply at Dom. <Work with my Apprentice. I will observe.>

It took Dom a moment to mentally translate Erion’s words but he nodded vigorously, resisting the urge to salute. “You will get nothing but my best work.”

<We shall see.> Erion gestured for both Astele and Dom to resume their places on the floor of the common area and maneuvered themselves to hover just behind the two, watching every move Dom made. Astele seemed oblivious to the intense observation, her easy mechanical chatter picking up again near instantaneously.

Siv finished in the galley, wisely keeping out of the conversation until they had come up with their solution. He came over to stand next to Adrestin, snickering at their companions. “What an unlikely little group we make.”

“Mm.” Adrestin smiled and inclined his head towards the three preoccupied on the floor. “Erion will come around, it just takes them a while to adjust to anyone new on my ship.” He rested a hand on Siv’s forearm. “Now… If you are still thinking it is a good idea to have me set you down planetside before your extraction team arrives, we should probably sort out the details of where exactly you want me to land. And if you need to talk about anything else.”

Siv squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, silently willing the sudden apprehension from welling up inside of him. “...Yeah. I guess we have some things to figure out. The cockpit, then? To do a low sweep of the area. We could check and see if there are any hssiss still around.”

“A good idea.” Adrestin gestured down the short passageway that led to the cockpit. “After you.”

Sivin smiled weakly. “You first.”

“Together then.” Adrestin looped his arm through Sivin’s and they covered the short distance in silence. Once past the threshold, Adrestin closed the door behind them and slid into the pilot’s seat. “The hssiss tend to keep off the ridges and higher rocky escarpments, so even if there is evidence some of them survived you should be relatively safe. Provided we choose carefully, of course. It should not be too difficult to map out a few potential places to set down.”

Siv nodded and settled into the copilot’s chair as he peered out the viewport, trying to tamp down his growing anxiety. “Maybe we should try for that set of ridges just to the south of where we originally made our landing at. It’s a good starting point.”

Adrestin nodded, and he circled the ship around and flew low into the atmosphere. “We still have about three to four hours before your extraction team should arrive, so we have plenty of time to scout out an ideal spot.” He pulled the ship down through a patch of clouds and hovered a few kilometers above the surface. “Which also gives us some time to talk. What is wrong? You flicker and surge in the Force like a wildfire searching for forest to burn.”

Sivin squirmed in his seat. “I just… I’m just worried, is all. Things like this hardly ever go as planned.”

“That is not entirely what is causing you such distress.”

Sivin sighed. Damn Adrestin’s observational skills. It wasn’t just distress, it was downright _panic._ He shouldn’t be feeling _reluctance_ to return to Republic space, to return to the Jedi Order. He should be eager to get back, he should be relieved that soon he would be away from the influence and power of a Sith Lord. But instead, he was… wishing he could stay. Wishing he had more time with his new friend. A fresh stab of guilt shot through his chest, and Siv shifted around to stare hard at the control panel, avoiding Adrestin’s eyes.

“You do not have to tell me if it is even more distressing to do so.”

“No, it’s just...” Siv rubbed at his temples. “It’s just hard to talk about. I don’t really talk about these things. At all. Except to _you,_ apparently.”

Adrestin nodded once, ghost of a smile passing briefly over his lips. “But only in your own time. I will not press the matter.”

“There’s never a good time, anyway.” Siv scowled before swiveling the chair around to face Adrestin. “Okay. Look. Here’s how it is. You probably already know that I was older when the Council decided to take me into the Order.”

Adrestin put the ship on autopilot again and nodded, turning his own chair around to face Sivin as well. “And the circumstances around it as well. You were four years old, the last survivor of a dying colony world.”

“Yeah. Well even at four I could tell that nobody in the Council really wanted me sticking around. ‘Too old’, they kept saying. But the media and the senate were putting an awful lot of pressure on the Order to do something with me. I guess it was a PR move, I don’t know, I just know that they finally decided to induct me into the Order and let me stay officially.”

He scrubbed at his forehead with the back of a hand and blew out a breath. “But even that young, I could tell they were watching me for any indication I wasn’t worth training. If I kriffed it up, it’d be so easy to just tell the press I was a failure and shunt me off to the AgriCorps Youth Division.”

“...Youth Divison?”

“Yeah, it’s like the dropout program. I mean, you can’t have Force-sensitive kids that failed the tenets of the Jedi Order just running around uncontrolled in the galaxy, they could get caught up with the Sith or abuse their powers. So, AgriCorps. They learn how to hone their powers for food production instead.”

“...I see.” Adrestin’s look was unreadable.

Siv shrugged. “Anyway, I _really_ didn’t want to get stuck with AgriCorps, or something even worse. I mean, the Jedi saved me, I didn’t want to kriff it up with them. So I did anything and everything I could to keep them happy with me. I’ve been the best damn Jedi I know how to be – I’m loyal, I’m committed, I outperform nearly everyone my equivalent rank, and I’ve never questioned my training. I’ve been outspoken and unswerving about destroying the Sith and keeping balance in the Force and letting the Light Side shine through everything we do. I’ve done _everything they’ve ever wanted._ I’ve been everything they want me to be.”

Adrestin reached out and touched the back of one of Siv’s hands. “...Up until now.”

Siv slumped back into his chair, nodding miserably. “Until now.”

“And now you are afraid that if they find out you have befriended a Sith, or even willingly abided the presence of one, they would cast you out.”

“I wouldn’t have anywhere else to go. I wouldn’t know what to do.” He twisted a tendril around his hands. “The Jedi are my _life_ , Adrestin. I can’t even imagine a life without the Order.”

The proximity sensor suddenly began blinking a bright angry red, sounding its alarm as another ship entered the system far above them. Both Sivin and Adrestin leaned forward to look at the viewfinder screen, and Siv instantly recognized the green, silver, and yellow logo of BrightWatch emblazoned on the side of the ship.

“...It’s the extraction team.” Sivin’s heart felt as though it had fallen right out of his chest. “They’re early.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rumble of impending thunder on the horizon*


	8. In Which There Is An Uncomfortable Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The extraction team has arrived to bring Sivin and Domthus back to the Jedi Order, but things do not go as planned.

“Okay. Okay, we can do this. Do you think they’ve seen us yet? I don’t know what kind of cloaking or sensor masking you have, but they might not have picked up the ship.”

Adrestin shook his head, scrutinizing Siv’s expression and noting the waver in his voice. “Unless they do a pinpoint scan, they will be unable to pick up this ship on their sensors. They will have to spot it visually. Although you are panicking rather loudly in the Force, Sivin. They might pick up on your distress.”

“Kriffing hell...” Siv shook himself and scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to find his center. “Okay. Alright. Calming down.”

“Do you want me to just leave? If you are not ready to face your peers, I could quite simply vanish with you.”

The eagerness that Siv felt on hearing those words both filled him with hope and horrified him. “N – no. I can’t. _I can’t._ I have to go back.”

Adrestin merely watched Siv, face sober and eyes searching. “...If that is your decision.”

Siv retorted with a violent shake of his head. “There’s no real choice here, I _have to._ I just… I don’t know how to fix this. _Stars,_ this is a disaster. What am I going to _say_ to them?”

Adrestin reached over to the communication panel and paused for a moment. “Sivin. Do you trust me?”

Siv blinked blankly at him, hesitation evident in his dropped jaw and wide eyes. “I… well, I guess so. Yes.” He nodded sharply, suddenly certain. “Yeah. I do.”

“Then trust me with this.” Without taking his eyes off of Siv, Adrestin keyed the comm. “Reconnaissance ship _Archon Red_ to Jedi vessel. You are trespassing in Sith-held space. I assume you are here to pick up your BrightWatch team you left on the surface. They have all been killed, save their commander, Sivin Ikalruq, and one other, both of which I hold prisoner. If you value their lives, you will stand down and prepare for docking. We have bodies to transfer and an offer of exchange to make.”

Sivin’s eyes had grown as huge as saucers as he heard Adrestin hail his extraction team. He mouthed “ _what are you doing?!”,_ but Adrestin just shook his head.

The comm was silent for a long moment, and then the familiar voice of Sivin’s second-in-command came filtering through. _“_ _BrightWatch IV_ to _Archon Red_. If Master Ikalruq is truly on board I demand to speak with him, on visual.”

Adrestin quirked an eyebrow at Sivin and gestured to the holoprojector, silent question asked. Siv nodded after a second’s hesitation and visibly braced himself as Adrestin activated the communicator. It scanned his head and shoulders in microseconds and began transmitting to the other ship.

Sivin took a deep breath. “Zarinne, it’s good to hear you.” He put on a brave face but didn’t bother trying to mask the waver in his voice – if he was supposed to be a prisoner it could be expected anyway. “Never thought something like _this_ would happen, heh. I’m losing my touch.”

The other end of the holoprojector whirred to life, revealing his second-in-command. The relief in her tentacles was evident even in the banded blue of hologram. “You _are_ alive! Have they hurt you? Who else survived?”

Siv allowed himself a shaky smile. “Surprisingly, they seem to be holding off on the torture for now. The new guy, Domthus, he’s here too.”

Adrestin moved into view of the hologram and he placed a heavy hand on Siv’s shoulder, Dark Side oozing and coiling about him so thick Sivin was sure that Zarinne could feel it even from the distance of the other ship. Adrestin snarled. “Enough talk. We retain the bodies of your Jedi in our hold. They will be returned to you on _good faith_ ,” he sneered, letting the disdain in his voice drip from every syllable, “and you will hear our offer of exchange. Prepare for docking, _BrightWatch IV.”_

He keyed off the transmission without allowing Zarinne another word, and inclined his head to gaze at Siv. The Dark Side still hung heavy around him, but the gentleness Siv had become so familiar with in such a short time was once again twinkling in his eyes.

If Siv’s mottled skin could have gotten any paler, it would have been a miracle. “You – you’re not kriffing around, are you?”

“They would have assumed this is a hostage situation without any encouragement. But I intend on making that assumption accurate. Please trust me on this, Siv.” Without warning, he reached down and unclipped the lightsaber from Sivin’s belt, hanging it conspicuously from his own. “Please.”

Sivin swallowed, mouth suddenly very dry. But he managed a nod. “You know what you’re doing. Lead the way.”

Adrestin took Siv by the hand and led him back into the common area where the other three were still tinkering with the construction of Erion’s new robotic arm. Adrestin’s presence in the Force preceded him however, and all three had stopped what they were doing to look up and stare at him as he entered. Dom went decidedly pale and backed up and nearly right into Erion, who shoved him out of the way with the edge of their repulsor harness. <What has happened, and what would you have us do?>

Adrestin drew Siv over to stand beside Dom and turned to gaze at the rest of his companions. “The Jedi extraction team has showed up early. They are assuming this is a hostage situation, so we are _giving_ them a hostage situation. Astele, Erion – you will be guarding Sivin and Domthus as though they are our prisoners. Once we dock with the Jedi’s ship, I will meet the extraction team at the airlock and speak to them. You will follow. No time for questions, just follow my lead.” He turned abruptly and returned to the cockpit.

Astele glanced from Dom to Sivin and back to Erion. “What the kriffing hell is happening? How can we –”

<You will do as you are told.> Erion reached down to Dom’s side and snatched his lightsaber from his belt, tossing it to Astele. <There are several pairs of stun cuffs in the compartment below the bench. Fetch two of them.>

“Yes Master,” she muttered, shooting Dom what might have been an apologetic look before she crawled under the dejarik table to dig around in a drawer. She emerged with two sets of cuffs and stood fidgeting between Siv and Dom. “I don’t like this.”

<You do not have to like it. Lord Belus knows what he is doing.> Erion gestured to the Jedi. <Secure them, Apprentice.>

Astele craned her neck to look up at Sivin, ears flat to the back of her head. “Okay big guy, I’m just doing what I’m told here.”

Siv flashed her a smile that looked more confident than he felt, and he folded his hands behind his back and crouched down so she could reach him. “It’s alright. Adrestin knows what he’s doing.”

She clipped him into the binders, then turned to Dom. “You gonna freak out, or can we make this easy?”

Dom’s mouth formed a tight line, but he nodded stiffly. Astele snapped the cuffs into place and then patted him on his back. “Just temporary. I think.”

<We will find out soon enough.> Erion inclined their head towards the cockpit, and moments later the lurch and clang of the two ships docking together echoed in the common area. Adrestin emerged from the cockpit once again, this time moving with a purpose towards the airlock. He motioned for the rest to follow. “Eri, Astele, draw your sabers to guard Siv and Dom, but do not ignite them unless absolutely necessary.”

Both murmured assent, and Adrestin stepped forward to release the last hatch that separated them from their new visitors. The airlock hatch hissed and released a puff of clouded air before swinging slowly open, and Adrestin stepped back.

Four Jedi stood just inside the airlock tunnel, and all four looked tense and restless with apprehension. The one that had been on the holoprojector – Zarinne – stepped forward, her tentacles writhing in agitation all around her face and shoulders. “You are outnumbered, Sith. We will retrieve both the bodies of our fallen comrades and those that are living. There will be no exchange and no negotiation.”

She made a move to draw the lightsabers at her hips, but both suddenly flew from their holsters to land squarely in Adrestin’s outstretched hand. The Dark Side was coiling about him so thickly a low rumble could be heard, seeming to come from the floor beneath his feet. “We were outnumbered planetside as well, Jedi.” He crushed both sabers between his fingers in one swift motion, smothering the sharp release of the crystals’ energy in a fist. Letting the glittering pieces of metal and stone fall to the floor, he raised his hand again.

With a sharp intake of breath, Zarinne clutched one tentacle to her chest. The Dark Side hung heavy in the air around all of them, pressing down with an inexorable weight that seemed to smother the very molecules of oxygen themselves. “You will soon find that I am not one to trifle with. If you value the life of your precious celebrity commander, you will drop this pretense of being in a position of power.”

Zarinne stumbled back, the only thing preventing her from collapsing to the floor being the supportive arms of two of the Jedi behind her. Her breathing was ragged and her tentacles thrashed at the air, heart pumping so loud even Siv and Dom could hear it from where they stood in the back.

Siv took a step forward. “Stop it! You’re going to kill her!”

Adrestin slowly turned to regard Sivin, head tilting to one side. “You are hardly in a position to make demands either, Commander Ikalruq.” But he released Zarinne from his grasp in the Force, and she gasped for air as her heartbeat staggered back to its normal pulse.

Once again Adrestin turned to the Jedi at the threshold of the airlock. “As I said. We have bodies in our hold.” He inclined his head towards the secondary lock just across the way. “Release the hatch, retrieve your dead.”

Once she had caught her breath and steadied herself back on her feet, Zarinne looked around Adrestin to fix Sivin with a questioning stare. “Is this true?”

Sivin nodded. “They’re all in there. All but Gi’rel. Her – her lightsabers were all that was left. And those are in there too.”

Zarinne gestured to one of the other Jedi behind her, who jumped up to the hatch and keyed it open. Hesitating, he peered inside before glancing back at Zarinne with an affirmative twitch of his head. “Four caskets, one box.”

“Load them.” Zarinne kept her eyes on Adrestin, but shifted to the side to allow her comrades room to maneuver the caskets out of the hold.

Adrestin sneered. “As I said. In good faith. But if you wish Ikalruq returned to you whole and unharmed and not abiding in a similar casket, your Council must secure the release of the Sith Lords Cinaede and Gallus, who were captured by the Jedi Order earlier this standard year and have been unjustly detained.”

Zarinne’s tentacles quivered in alarm. “We have no members of the Council aboard, we cannot simply –”

“You _can_ contact them, and you _will._ I am patient.”

Zarinne glanced over at Sivin, unsure and apprehensive.

Siv snarled, exasperation bleeding through. “Don’t worry about me, just get the bodies loaded and _get out of here!”_

Zarinne jumped and saluted, directing another of her comrades to finish loading the last of the caskets onto their ship at the other end of the airlock tunnel. “I don’t want to leave you here, sir – and Domthus, he’s –”

“He is a member of BrightWatch and knew the risks when he signed on,” Siv snapped, “And _so do you._ Don’t risk the rest of the team for my sake.”

Adrestin stepped up to block Zarinne’s view of Siv. “Regardless of your emotional melodramatics, I require an answer from your Council. Contact them. _Now.”_

She hesitated once again, but this time Zarinne pulled a hand-held holoprojector pod from her robes and activated it. The banded blue hues of the miniature hologram coalesced into the form of a Kel Dor, who peered at Zarinne with surprise. “BrightWatch! Why have you contacted the Council? We were expecting you to operate under communications silence until you returned to Republic space. What has happened?”

“Apologies, Master Braga, but there is a situation.” Zarinne took a deep breath and spared a venomous glance at Adrestin before focusing her attention on the hologram in her tentacle. “The deployed team encountered Sith, and Commander Ikalruq and Knight Domthus are the only survivors. They are being held under threat and the Sith are demanding the release of two of their own in exchange.”

Braga paused, and motion on the edges of the hologram signified the presence of several other members of the Council. Braga looked to a spot off-screen and murmured something that Zarinne couldn’t catch, but his gestures were animated. He turned back to Zarinne and shook his head. “We cannot rush into a negotiation with a Sith so lightly. We must consider our options and weigh the dangers before proceeding. Inform these Sith that we must convene before giving them an answer, and then you return to Coruscant immediately.”

“But what about Commander Ikalruq?”

“Trust in the Force, Zarinne.” The hologram dissolved, and she gritted her teeth as she pocketed the device.

Adrestin laughed, sharp and cold and brimming with malevolence. “Such is the resolve of the Jedi Council. But I am patient. Return to your Council, little kath hounds. Await their decision.” He pulled a comm unit from a pocket and tossed it to Zarinne. “This is encrypted. It will only link to me, and cannot be traced. Once your all-seeing Council makes up their mind, contact me. But do not take too long.” He stepped back from the airlock’s threshold and held a firm hand to Sivin’s shoulder, gripping tight. “Ikalruq’s life is at stake.”

He keyed in the code to seal off the airlock hatch, and the Jedi scrambled back to get out of the way of the pressurized gas as it slowly hissed shut. Zarinne jumped forward to press a tentacle to the transparisteel porthole. “Sivin! We will come back for you!”

But Adrestin barred her view. With a flick of his wrist he used the Force to shove her back from the closing hatch, his laughter a dark mockery of her promise. The hatch sealed shut, and the vibration of the disconnecting ship echoed in tandem with the rumbles of Dark Side power that writhed around Adrestin.

He swept from the connector hall with a purpose, bypassing Sivin and the others without a word or a look. Dom cowered behind Siv as he passed, white eyes wide and brimming with tears. He glanced up at Sivin and leaned into his hip, unable to cling to him because of the binders around his wrists. “Wh – what just happened? Siv – are we going to be okay?”

Sivin didn’t answer, instead just staring at the cockpit door where Adrestin had disappeared.

Astele huffed and tapped her foot, slipping her lightsaber back into its hilt. “What is Lord Belus _doing?_ The Jedi are gone.”

Erion shook their head. <He is ensuring that they have made the jump to hyperspace.>

“Oh.” She crossed her arms and heaved a sigh. “Well when can we relax?”

<Wait for him, Apprentice. It should only take moments.>

And indeed, the cockpit door slid open again and Adrestin ducked back into the common area. “They have made their jump. That buys us a little more time together, at the very least. And solves the problem of explaining the situation to your immediate peers.” He made his way over to Siv, pointedly ignoring Dom as he cowered behind his bigger friend.

“I apologize for not giving you more warning on how any of this might play out.” Adrestin reached around Siv to unclip the stun cuffs and handed him back his lightsaber. “But this was the best I could think of in such a short time.”

Sivin’s tension slowly started to ebb, but he didn’t quite relax. “I guess if you had, my worry wouldn’t have been as convincing, eh.”

“As you say.” Adrestin bent to remove the binders from Dom, but he backed away from him to hide behind Astele.

She snorted. “Oh knock it off, Dom. You were never in any danger.” She grabbed his arms and unclipped the cuffs before shoving his lightsaber back into its hilt on his belt. “You need to learn to relax.”

“...Right. Relax.” He flicked his eyes from Astele to Adrestin and back. “Would – would he have hurt Zarinne? It – it looked like he was trying to kill her.”

Siv was gazing intently at Adrestin too. “I was wondering that myself. Friends or not, those are my people too, Adrestin. I care about them.”

“And I do not.” Adrestin shook his head, but placed a placating hand gently on Siv’s arm. “But I know they are your people. That is why I did not kill any of them, or cause permanent harm. They were in precious little danger.” The Dark Side still coiled through him in tangible waves but as if in response to Adrestin’s words it smoothed and calmed, though never truly dissipating.

“Good to know.” Siv let himself finally relax, and ran a hand through his head tendrils. “Well, we probably have a few days before the Council will make up their minds on what to do about your, uh, demands. Not sure where to go or what to do in the meantime, but at least it’s time.”

“They actually intend on debating this?” Adrestin marveled. “With all the public fuss Jedi make about protecting their own, what could they have to discuss?”

“Well...” Siv scratched the back of his head, sheepish. “If they’re expecting me to be the Jedi they hope I am, I should be able to either escape on my own or die trying. That’s their first option. Second would be some sort of daring rescue operation, but if they don’t know where I am or the strength of the Sith around me, then that would leave negotiation. But I really doubt they’d consider actually giving in to your demands.” He sighed. “If anything, it would just make them look into these Sith prisoners… Cinaede and Gallus, or whoever – and see just how valuable they might actually be. At the very best though, if they did give in to any demands they’d probably only release one.”

Adrestin nodded. “At least that means the Jedi will keep them alive a little longer.”

“Who are they?”

“Cinaede is a Sith assassin who was captured under very messy and unfortunate circumstances. I have owed her much throughout the years. And Gallus is an apprentice of an old friend, who just had the misfortune of getting caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time. In any event, it could not hurt for me to turn this rather... unfortunate situation into an opportunity to make the most of.”

“Quick thinking.”

“It does buy you a little more time. To think on things and figure them out, if you want it.”

Sivin nodded, thoughtful.

“Well, whatever.” Astele began dragging the mechanical parts she had been working on earlier with Dom back into the middle of the floor. “I’ve got an arm to make, and Dom’s helping me.”

Erion gave a significant glance in Sivin’s direction before they raised one eyebrow curiously at Adrestin, but said nothing. They maneuvered their repulsor harness over to where Astele was ripping apart a jumble of wires and gestured Dom to follow suit.

Adrestin turned back to Siv and offered him a hand. “The cockpit, once more?”

“You first.”

Adrestin let himself quirk a small smile. “Together then. I have a suggestion or two of where we might be able to go in the meantime.”

Siv took Adrestin’s offered hand and they made their way back into the cockpit, settling down in their respective chairs. “Yeah? Where to, Captain?”

Adrestin chuckled before flipping on a switch to illuminate a star map. He pointed to one dot of light. “Bosthirda is a Sith-held world, but it does not have much of a Sith presence actually in the planet. Just a single city where people mind their own damn business and lots of wide open space. Very mountainous. I have an old friend there who would be more than happy to put us all up for a while. And she is very capable of keeping her mouth shut.”

“She a Sith too?”

“Indeed.” Adrestin nodded. “Darth Dirae, of the Sith Tribunal. Sometimes her brother is there as well, and if he is present when we arrive just keep a close eye on your lightsaber. He has no talent for using the Force, and fancies himself an archaeologist and a dealer in ancient antiquities and rare items. Though I contend that he is little more than a grave robber and common thief.”

“Good to know – wait, _Darth_ Dirae? You want to take _two Jedi_ to visit a member of the _Sith Tribunal? Are you crazy?”_

Adrestin blinked both sets of eyes. “She is a friend.”

“Yeah, _your_ friend, not _mine,_ and one of the top two dozen most powerful and influential Sith in the _galaxy_ , next to the Sith Emperor himself and his advisors and Hands and Wrath and whoever else.”

“I understand your concern,” Adrestin rubbed at the scales between his eyes, “but she is also trustworthy and holds no grudge against Jedi, if that is possible for you to believe. I have entrusted worse things to her, and she has never betrayed my confidence.”

“Alright, alright.” Siv waved his hands in mock surrender. “I said I trust you, so I trust you. How far is it?”

“Not far. Less than an hour to jump since it’s on the Kamat Krote hyperlane. Since we’re already on the Daragon Trail we can just take that straight up to Korriban, then jump onto the Kamat Krote from there. I have done it dozens of times.”

“ _Korriban?”_

“Yes? Bosthirda is about halfway between Korriban and Dromund Kaas.”

“ _S_ _tars,_ Adrestin, you want to take _two Jedi_ clear into the heart of Sith space? Do you want the whole _Sith Empire_ to know you’re ferrying Jedi around?”

Adrestin just shrugged. “We are perilously close to Korriban already, Siv. And no one is going to question _me_ when we drop out of hyperspace to switch routes to Bosthirda. As I said, I go there often. This is normal activity for me. And when we get there, we do not even have to land anywhere near the city. The only people who will know you are even there are those already on the ship and Dirae herself, with the possible addition of her brother.”

“Yeah? And how trustworthy is a thief?”

Adrestin smiled, and this time it was feral. “He fears me. If he cannot keep his mouth shut, then he will die. But I sincerely doubt that he will be a problem. He hates the Sith, and has no allies among them who would listen, other than his own sister. And even that is… complicated. No, he is not a threat.”

Sivin frowned, inwardly flinching at Adrestin’s easy dismissive suggestion of murder. But he sighed and finally conceded. “Alright, alright. It’s not like I have any better suggestions, anyway.” He waved a hand at the navigation controls. “Next stop, Bosthirda. Welcome to the heart of the Sith Empire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess this chapter clears up the timeline a little bit more. Probably within the range of one to three years before the Treaty of Coruscant?  
> And I know my whole insertion of a Sith Tribunal is completely not compliant with canon, but this is my AU and I’ll tweak if I want to 8D


	9. In Which We Are Introduced To Another Sith Lord, And Dom Has An Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our unlikely set of friends arrives at the home of Darth Dirae, who was definitely not expecting them.

The mottled, swirling blues and whites of hyperspace coalesced back into starry pinpoints of light, and the _Archon Red_ emerged into the Bosthirda System. All five of its passengers were crowded into the cockpit, all peering out of the viewport to catch a glimpse of the mountainous planet below.

Adrestin flashed a brief smile over to Sivin, seated in the copilot’s chair next to him. “Entirely uneventful jump, as promised.”

Siv returned the smile. “I still won’t say I wasn’t worried. Stopping over Korriban gave me the _creeps._ I swear I could feel something crawling up my spine, and we didn’t even _land._ Anyone who actually goes down there has got to have taken leave of their senses.”

Adrestin chuckled and shook his head. “I have been there – several times – and I seem to have all of my senses still about me.”

There was a little gasp from behind them. “You have?”

Dom sat wide-eyed directly behind Siv, and as soon as he opened his mouth to utter his shocked question he clapped a hand over it in surprise. He redirected his stare down to the floor, the velvet over his horns fluctuating between pale fear and flushed purple embarrassment.

Adrestin merely nodded an affirmation, choosing not to acknowledge Dom’s perennial terror of him. “Of course. My mother is buried there, and I go to visit her tomb on occasion. She was a great Sith warrior.”

Siv reached a hand behind him to pat Dom lightly on the knee for reassurance before grinning at Adrestin. “Runs in the family, eh?”

“Most definitely. My father only had some affinity, but half of my siblings are quite strong in the Force.”

Sivin raised his eyebrows. “How big a family do you have?”

“For an Annoo-Dat? Quite large. Both of my parents have passed, but I have five surviving siblings and a network of aunts, uncles, cousins, and kin.”

Astele climbed out of her seat to drape herself over Adrestin’s shoulder. “Hey! You’ve got my family too, remember?”

Erion gave her a sharp look. <Astele, _respect. >_

Adrestin smiled and gently placed her back in her seat. “Yes, and I have your family as well. They have been very good to both Erion and I over the years. Now, shall we pay Lord Dirae a visit?”

“Yes!” Astele bounced in her seat as she strapped herself back in. “You think she still has the whelps? How big are they now? Do you think they’ll remember me?”

Adrestin laughed, warm and rich. “I suppose we will have to find out when we get there.”

Dom leaned over to whisper to Astele, though in the narrow confines of the cockpit it was audible to everyone in there. “Whelps of what?”

Astele just grinned at him, every tooth in her mouth visible. “You’ll find out when we get there.”

Adrestin shook his head at her answer, and set the controls to manual. “We will make directly for her compound, I see no need to land at Jerunga. There is no point in mingling with the local city population.” He fired up the sublight engines and guided the ship down through the atmosphere.

The ship glided relatively smoothly down to the surface, buffeted by strong winds until it neared a high grassy plateau nestled deep among the craggy ridges of rugged mountains. It must have been local summer – the sky was a brilliant blue, and no snow lay on the ground except on the shadowy side of steeper hills and on the high peaks themselves. A few scattered trees and tall berry bushes peppered the plateau, dark green islands in a sea of waving yellow grass. Hidden among the vegetation were a scattering of low domed buildings, the same straw colour as the tall grasses surrounding them. It was here that Adrestin set the ship down, on a flat stretch of ground where the vegetation had been mowed down to only knee high.

They had barely finished the landing cycle when Astele had jumped up from her seat, tearing down towards the exit and bouncing impatiently when the others didn’t follow quickly enough to let down the boarding ramp. When they caught up to her, Erion placed their hand firmly on her shoulder. <Mind your manners, Apprentice. You will be responsible for the Elomin Jedi while we are here. Ensure that he behaves himself. Keep a close eye on him.>

She shook them off with a sigh. “Okay, okay, fine. His name’s Dom, you know. Couldn’t hurt you to use it.”

Erion was just about to scold her once again when Adrestin lowered the ramp, and Astele shot off towards the closest domed building, still over a hundred meters away.

Siv and Dom came down the ramp just as she ran off, and Siv snickered. “She’s excited. I take it she likes this place, eh?”

Adrestin nodded. “The place, and the company. This has been a tertiary home for her for over half of her life. Ah, there is our host.”

Coming through the doorway of the nearest building was a tall woman with sunken, glowing yellow eyes, and a mane of hair-tentacles tipped with bioluminescent knobs that seemed to float and flow in the light breeze. She looked as though she would have been more at home dwelling in a shipwreck at the bottom of a lost sea instead of a mountain garden retreat. She waved to them from the threshold of her home, then held out her arms to catch Astele as she launched herself into the woman’s embrace. “Lord Dirae! It’s been _forever,_ I thought we’d never get to come back again!”

Adrestin and Erion led the two Jedi towards the building, and Adrestin raised a clawed hand in greeting. “I concede it has been well over a year. Astele had to celebrate her birthday without you, and for that I apologize.”

Dirae set Astele down and patted her on the shoulder. “Such things happen.” Her voice sounded as though it were an echo through deep ocean, though her next words held concern. “Erion, what happened to you?”

They shook their head. <Hssiss. At the shrine we had gone to investigate. Astele constructed this harness. She is also creating a replacement arm.>

Dirae nodded, her hair drifting slowly with the movement of her head. “I see. Her talents serve you well. And I suppose I will hear the whole story later on. Now are you two going to greet me properly, or no?”

Embraces were exchanged between the three of them, and she fastened her glowing gaze onto Siv and Dom. “And who are these? They shine much too brightly in the Force.”

Dom hastily ducked close beside Siv, who curled a protective arm around his shoulders. Adrestin stepped in next to Siv and placed a hand on his arm. “Their story requires some telling, but this is Sivin Ikalruq. The little one is Domthus. They are indeed Jedi.”

Her eyes narrowed, and a cold pressure like stormy seawater flowed out from around her, filling the air with Dark Side energy. “I recognize one name. Lord Belus, why do you bring Jedi to my home? Why do you even abide their presence at all? ”

<I have wondered the same thing,> Erion muttered.

Adrestin sighed. “Do you recall when I mentioned I was studying the mysteries held within An-Drend? Of the books and scrolls and the knowledge they contained?”

She nodded once, hair tendrils floating as though buffeted by the Dark Side currents flowing around her. “Indeed. A great deal of philosophy.”

“And of the nature of the Force. Jedi and Sith alike are immersed in the same Force. I have spoken with you about this many times before. Is it so strange that when I hear someone in the Force call out to me, that I answer in kind? Whether Light or Dark?”

Dirae flicked a glance over at Sivin. “You are telling me that a Jedi called out to you.” Her tone was dry, disbelieving. _“You._ Who has killed countless of their kind. Razed worlds they held. Set them to flame and smote them to dust. _You,_ who I call upon to fill my place in the Tribunal if I should die. And a _Jedi,_ one renowned for attacking our shrines and destroying our temples, _this Jedi,_ called out to _you?_ And still shines so bright with the Light that I can barely stand to look at him?”

Sivin flinched, both at the implication of what Adrestin actually was and at the darkness resonating from both of them. He could feel the Dark Side smoldering within both of the Sith in front of him, the power within each of them pressing against the other, twisting and curling as they vied for domination. Dom inched his way further behind Siv.

Adrestin stood firm. “Do you doubt me? You can see into my heart, Dirae. You have known me longer than almost all others. Search me for any seed of falsehood or delusion.”

Her glowing eyes fastened onto Adrestin’s own, and remained fixed for a long and tense moment. The pressure of the Force between them never left, but it stilled to a tight vibration, like a wire drawn close to breaking point.

Suddenly she sighed and looked away. “You speak truth, Lord Belus. You have offered friendship, and they have responded. You trust these Jedi.” Her gaze returned to Sivin, intense and inexorable. “...And he trusts _you.”_

“As you say.”

“And now you seek asylum for them, with me. For how long?”

“A few days, I believe.” Adrestin’s gaze turned to Sivin as well. “I gave their Council an offer of exchange, and I am awaiting a response.”

Dirae’s hair tendrils drifted down closer to her shoulders, and her voice fell even quieter than it had been before. “And who are you ransoming them for?”

“Cinaede and Gallus.”

One hand came up to cover her mouth, and the light in her eyes seemed to flicker. “You would have them return my Gallus to me?”

Adrestin inclined his head. “He was the first I thought of. He has been away from home for far too long.”

The guarded barriers in the Force that had been coursing through her presence in the Dark Side slipped, ever so slightly, and she took one of Adrestin’s hands in both of her own. “I would abide the presence of a thousand Jedi if I was guaranteed Gallus’s return.”

He gently squeezed the hands holding his. “If they do not agree to the exchange, I will seek out his captors one after another until the trail of blood shows me the path to his freedom.”

Her smile was small, but genuine. “You do me a great service and honor, Lord Belus. Adrestin. And in thanks I shall allow your strange new acquaintances into my home.”

She released his hand and turned to the two Jedi, gesturing back at the domed building behind her. “And not merely allow, but welcome. Please, come in. Provided that you treat this house and those in it with respect and courtesy, you have nothing to fear within these walls.”

They were ushered into the domed building, and were presented immediately with a light and airy receiving room. The arched ceiling was lined with semi-transparent glass, bathing the entire room in a golden glow that reflected off of plants in brightly coloured containers along the walls and the blue tile in the floor. Bowed doorways led to short halls that expanded into different rooms, each having a domed roof that gave the appearance from the outside that they were separate buildings. The light tinkling of chimes betrayed the presence of spaces in the halls that led to the open air outside, allowing the wind to come filtering in as a light breeze.

Dom’s gaze ran all over the room, his jaw dropping open at the finely-laid mosaic work in the tile on the floor and walls, and the way the light caught every movement in the air as if it were ripples in water. “It’s beautiful,” he murmured, unaware in his wonder at the place that he had even spoken.

“It’s great, isn’t it?” Astele had jumped to his side, and she pointed at some of the intricate patterns on the wall. “These are Mikkian mosaiglyphs. If you could read them, they’d tell you all about our lives! Dirae’s made a line for each of us.” She pointed to a wavy line about a meter from the floor, inset with images and patterns as it undulated across the wall. “This one’s mine. It starts here,” she indicated the edge of one of the arched door frames, “And it goes aaaalllll the way around to over _there.”_ She pointed about a third of the way around the large receiving room. She grabbed a hold of Dom’s arm and dragged him along the edge of the room, pointing at places in the pattern. “Here’s when I first met Lord Belus and Master Erion – I was still a baby – and here’s when Master Eri took me as their Apprentice. Right _here_ is when I constructed my lightsaber, and right after it is when I made my first kill.” She beamed with pride, unaware of the shiver that had crept up Dom’s back.

She turned and pointed at some of the other marks within the pattern. “These are glyphs of distinction, so whenever you see them that means I did something important.” She grinned and slapped Dom playfully on his shoulder. “Maybe if you stick around me long enough, you’ll get a mention on my mosaiglyph line.”

Dom gave her a weak smile. “Hopefully not as a kill mark, heh.”

She frowned at him. “Of _course_ not, that’s just stupid. Here, let me show you Eri’s, theirs is _way_ cooler than mine.”

As Astele hauled Dom around by the arm explaining the markings on the wall, Dirae smiled over at them. “He is _adorable_ , Erion, despite burning so bright. Although if I had known you were considering finding a companion for Astele, I could have had her select one of the tuk’ata pack early. A Jedi is… an unusual choice.”

Erion scowled. <He is collateral from Belus’s Jedi. Nothing more. I would rather be rid of him.>

She raised a slender eyebrow and inclined her head to Adrestin. “I would like to hear more of how these Jedi came to be in your favored company, old friend. Shall we sit?” Her words were directed not only at both Sith, but at Sivin as well.

Before he could answer though, Erion slipped by the others to touch their hand to Dirae’s shoulder. <I have already seen enough of this story myself. I shall converse with you later, on our own time. I wish to visit the burial mounds to the east.>

Dirae nodded and patted their hand. “Visit with your family, Erion. We will catch up later.”

A single nod from Erion, and they glided out of the room.

Dirae turned back to Adrestin and Sivin, and gestured to a semi-circle of low couches situated in the center of the room. “Please, come.”

Siv cautiously followed Adrestin, who led him over to the couches and sat down next to him. Dirae settled across from them, and she examined Sivin with a critical eye as he sat shifting uncomfortably beneath her glowing yellow gaze.

“Tell me, Adrestin. How did one of the the most respectable Sith I have ever known end up playing host to a Jedi? Especially one so infamous as Master Sivin Ikalruq?”

Adrestin rested a hand lightly on Siv’s knee, tilting his head to catch his eye. “Perhaps that is a story that Sivin should tell, if he is comfortable doing so. I do not wish to divulge anything he would rather keep private.”

Siv flashed him a nervous smile before turning to Dirae. “Well, uh, it’s kind of long and boring and complicated, but if you don’t mind hearing it I’m pretty sure I can, uhh... cover the important stuff.”

Dirae nodded, folding her hands in her lap and settling in. “We have all the time in the galaxy, as far as I am concerned. Please, share with me.”

Over in the corner, Dom and Astele had gone quiet by the wall. They had reached halfway through Adrestin’s mosaiglyph line, but had paused to listen in on the other conversation. Dom leaned in to whisper in Astele’s ear, “Do you think we should leave? I don’t want to be rude.”

“Hn.” Astele shrugged with nonchalance, but then visibly flinched. “Okay, okay, yeah we should go. I’ll just take you to see if we can find one of the whelps, they’re somewhere out back.” She grabbed Dom by the wrist and dragged him down one of the nearest hallways, leading to a different domed room.

Dom tugged her back to a halt. “Wait a minute, are you okay?”

She laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Dirae just gave me a little mental Force prodding is all.” She pulled open a door and squinted in the bright afternoon sunlight. “I think she just wants Siv to feel comfortable talking to her one-on-one.”

She shoved him out the door and took a few steps out into the grass, standing on her tip-toes to look around. “Stars, why do I have to be so short? This grass is almost as tall as _Siv.”_ She frowned and tapped her foot in irritation. “Wait a minute. Dom, hold still.”

“What are you – _oof!_ Astele!”

She jumped onto his back, slinging a leg over each of his shoulders. “Awesome! Now _I’m_ as tall as Siv! Alright, go left. I think I see a tail.”

“Would you just – _get off_ – I’m gonna fall over.” Dom tried to shrug her off, but she clung to his horns and giggled.

“Aw, c’mon Dom, get moving while I can still see! We’re gonna miss them!” She kicked at his sides with her heels.

Dom heaved a sigh and grabbed her ankles before shrugging her forward a little so she wouldn’t put him off balance. “Fine, fine. Just… quit grabbing at my horns, that hurts.”

She relented and shaded her eyes with a hand. Pointing in the direction of movement, she bounced again. “That way!”

Dom complied, wading through the tall grass while he grumbled under his breath. “What are we even looking for, anyway? You said they were whelps, but what of? I mean that’s not really –”

A massive black head suddenly broke through the waving grass, a mass of heavy horns and triple rows of teeth. It rammed straight into Dom and Astele, knocking them backwards and sending them flying a few meters to land flat on their backs. Dom scrambled to his feet and drew his lightsaber, placing himself between Astele and the hulking creature. “Astele! Are you alright? Stay back, I’ll –”

“ _Dom_ , what are you _doing?!”_ Astele leapt to her feet and grabbed his wrist, forcing him to deactivate his blade. “Don’t show a _Jedi lightsaber_ to a tuk’ata!”

Dom’s heart jumped to his throat, and he stared up at the creature slowly approaching on powerful clawed limbs. A barbed, poison-filled tail flicked and twitched behind it, and burning yellow eyes bored straight at Dom.

Astele hopped forward and ran right towards the beast, talking in a strange tongue Dom had only heard before in the most sobering of Jedi lessons about ancient Sith adversaries. It seemed to have a mollifying affect on the animal, and it lowered its massive head to allow Astele to scratch it between its eyes. She half-turned to scowl reprovingly at Dom. “This is Jucada, he’s one of the whelps I was talking about. _Honestly_ , Dom, what did you _think_ we were looking for? Nerfs?”

Dom took a step back. The creature was salivating as it stared at him. “B-but Astele – that’s a _Sithspawn._ It’ll _kill you.”_

If Astele could have rolled her eyes harder at Dom, she would have. “Yeah but these are _my_ Sithspawn. Well… not yet. Lord Belus actually bred them – they don’t call him ‘Master of Tuk’ata’ for no reason, you know – and he gave the whole brood as a gift to Dirae. And she said that I could pick one of them out for my own once I earn a Darth title.” She tossed him a toothy grin.

Dom shivered all over, and the glaring reminder that his new friend was neck-deep in the Dark Side was suddenly overwhelming. “I – I see. B-but how do you know it won’t kill _me?_ I’m a Jedi after all.”

“Well, don’t show him your blade, dumbass. I mean, Jucada’s pretty well-behaved. Even though you ooze Light Side like a lantern bird, I don’t think he’d eat you. Not when I’m around to say you’re okay, at least.” She grabbed a hold of one of the tuk’ata’s horns and tugged it towards Dom. “Go on, say hi.”

Dom scrambled backwards and nearly fell again, and the creature rumbled something that sounded suspiciously like laughter. Astele giggled too, but she held out an upturned hand to Dom. “Oh, come on. It’s okay. C’mon, c’mon.” She wiggled her fingers at him impatiently.

Very hesitantly, Dom inched his way forward to take her hand. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Don’t be dumb. See? He likes you.” She tugged Dom’s hand forward to place it on the creature’s snout, and Dom’s knees nearly gave out when he made contact with its skin. He could feel the Dark Side power that it had originated from, practically bubbling up from beneath the surface. Both cold and warm at the same time, harsh and deep and visceral. It felt… it felt very much like Adrestin did in the Force. He shuddered.

Again the tuk’ata rumbled, and this time it opened its mouth so wide Dom could count all three rows of teeth. It lurched forward, breath hot and heavy as it came at Dom and…

And licked him from his sternum to the top of his horns, leaving him drenched in saliva.

Astele burst out laughing, and if Dom thought it was possible he could have sworn the tuk’ata grinned. He held his arms away from his body, shaking himself in revulsion. _“Stars,_ that’s _disgusting!”_

Astele only laughed harder, clutching her stomach and leaning hard on the tuk’ata’s front leg. “You look like a drowned vervikk!”

“Very funny.” Shaking himself one more time for good measure, he scowled over at Astele. But her mirth was contagious, and his glare slowly changed into a weak smile. “So does this mean we’re all friends?”

She wiped tears from her eyes and nodded, gesturing at the tuk’ata’s face. “He won’t do it again – go on, pet his nose. He likes it.”

Once again Dom inched his way towards the creature, this time reaching up on his own to touch his snout. “His name is Jucada, right?” His fingers trembled only a little this time, and he started to scratch gently. A low trilling sound resonated from the tuk’ata’s throat, and Jucada lowered his head so Dom wouldn’t have to stretch so far to reach.

Even though he was still soaking wet, a slow, wide grin spread across Dom’s face. “He – he really does like me.”

Astele nodded, coming up to scratch Jucada’s nose as well. “Maybe later he’ll let us go for a ride.”

Dom’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Why not?” Astele giggled. “Although probably only after you’re feeling less like someone dunked you in the swamps of Beiruun.”

Dom took another look at himself and wrinkled his nose. “So now that we’re all friends, can I just… take a shower somewhere? Where’s the refresher?”

Astele grinned and waved him along. “Alright, alright, let me show you. It’s this way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to go back and forth evenly between the two pairs of cross-faction friends, but I feel like I'm focusing more on Astele and Dom. Oh well. Next chapter should be a better balance.
> 
> A little on Dirae: Back when the making-of stuff was released for Episode II, I was captivated by one of the rejected Sith Lord character designs they had made. So much so that I made an OC based off of that design (Dirae, obviously) and she’s been one of my favourite Sith OCs I’ve had ever since. I chose to headcanon Mikkians (the species that character design officially turned into) as a species that originated in the deep sea, hence why I describe Dirae the way I do.


	10. In Which An Awkward Dinner Is Served, And The Morning Reveals A Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirae has a conversation with Sivin about the nature of falling, and Adrestin cooks dinner. Things seem to alternate between tension and relaxation, even right through into the following morning. And then they receive an unexpected surprise.

“...And that’s about when we came knocking on your door.” Sivin took a careful breath before exhaling just as slowly. “I know I left out some details, but –”

“But they were private details between you and Adrestin. I understand, there is no need to explain them.” Dirae nodded, her hair tendrils drifting with her movements. “And I am beginning to understand why Adrestin took the risk that he did, offering you help and shelter. And also relieved. I sense no deception in you, and neither does he. Even Erion does not, for if they did, they would not have allowed you to remain aboard Adrestin’s ship alive.”

Sivin flashed her a weak smile. “Heh. Good to know I’m actually in their good graces. Sort of.”

She shook her head. “You must understand, it is not simply because it is not normal Sith decorum to have mercy on a Jedi that we have such reservations to overcome. It is because it is _dangerous._ For _us.”_

Sivin frowned. “How so?”

Dirae flicked a patient glance at Adrestin before lightly placing a hand over one of Sivin’s. “Forgive my speaking in generalities, but I know of no other way to say these things… Any time a Sith has saved the life of a Jedi, to my knowledge, it ends only in grief. Jedi bide their time. They wait until a Sith’s guard is down, no matter how slightly, and then they use that opening to retaliate. Whether that is in the form of physical attack – or worse, an attack focused on ripping us away from the Dark Side of the Force – it makes no difference. If a Sith’s guard is down, the damage is often irreparable.”

Sivin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I can’t… I can’t see me doing something like that to Adrestin. Even if I thought I was even _capable,_ which I really doubt, heh. I can’t really say I’ve heard of any other situations like ours, though, to be honest.”

“No, I doubt you would. And even if you had, it would be from the perspective of a Jedi who is parading around a conquest. Jedi take no prisoners, not unless they see a chance for success at twisting a Sith into breaking.” She sighed, a distant pain within her glowing yellow eyes. “They call it conversion. Redemption. Returning to the Light. We call it the death of what makes us who we are at our very core. Rip that away from us, and we become someone else, a mere shell of who we once were. A hollow ghost with physical form.”

“…And if we redeem a Sith to the Light Side, there is no going back for you? No risk of falling again?”

Dirae raised a slender eyebrow and Sivin inwardly flinched, regretting his poor choice of words. “I didn’t – ah kriffing hell, I didn’t mean that to sound so –”

“It’s alright. You are still a Jedi, Sivin Ikalruq. I do not expect your language or perceptions to change overnight, merely because you have befriended one Sith.” She patted his hand. “But to answer your question, there is about as likely a possibility of a Sith returning to the Dark Side as there is a Jedi who has strayed from the Order in returning to the Light.”

“So not very –”

“So _quite_ likely after all. Many of your so-called fallen Jedi return to you, in time.” She smiled at him and leaned forward to press her hand against his chest. “Sivin, if the heart is given a choice it never knew it had, it will often take it. Such is why lifelong Jedi often fall, and lifelong Sith sometimes venture towards the Light. But the heart also learns where it truly belongs, and will settle wherever it knows its home to truly be.”

She dropped her hand and leaned back to gaze up at the ceiling, dappled with the late afternoon sunlight. “For some, that means returning to their origins. For others, it leads them further down a path that might be entirely unexpected.”

Sivin pursed his lips and merely nodded, not knowing what to say in response. Adrestin reached over and gently squeezed his knee, raising one scaly eyebrow. “You are allowed to have differing opinions, Sivin.”

“No – I mean, it’s not that – I just… look, I don’t really think about these kinds of things all that often. I’m not really a deep thinker, I just…” He waved his hands in front of him as if the entirety of the Jedi Order were in front of him. “I just do as I’m told. It’s… easier. Simpler.”

“Until you are faced with thoughts and decisions that might put you at odds with your Order,” Adrestin murmured, “and then you are forced into a panic.”

Siv slumped back into his seat, flopping his head sideways to rest against Adrestin’s shoulder. “...Yeah, well. I never _asked_ for things to get complicated. They just kind of _happened.”_

Adrestin nodded and brushed a few of Siv’s tendrils away from his face. “Yet I do consider myself fortunate that events unfolded the way they did. Notwithstanding the loss and tragedy that we have both suffered, I believe we both derive benefit from befriending each other.”

Siv let himself smile at that. “...Yeah. Me too.”

Dirae released a light, musical laugh that echoed of raindrops. “The two of you certainly make for an odd, if endearing, pair. Although I believe it is my dubious delight to shatter this bonding moment to demand that if Adrestin intends on squirreling the five of you away in my house for several days, then he should – at the _very_ least – deign to provide his host with some of his exquisite cuisine.”

Adrestin snickered. “It would be my pleasure, Dirae. I trust you have a fully stocked pantry I can peruse?”

She inclined her head, her voice taking on a mock-official tone. “Consider everything I have at your disposal, Lord Belus.”

One of the doors near the opposite side of the room swung open, revealing a very bouncy Astele and a very drenched and sticky Dom. Astele waved Dom to the side and through to another door, tossing a semi-apologetic glance at the three sitting on the couches. “Just passing through, going to the ‘fresher.”

Before she could usher Dom away, Siv rose to his feet. “Wait just a minute, what happened?”

Both Astele and Dom cringed, and both turned slowly to face Siv with sheepish grins on their faces. “Oh, nothing much,” Astele waved a hand vaguely in the air. “I introduced Dom to one of the tuk’ata whelps and he got a little friendly greeting. Don’t worry, it washes off.”

She was just about to shove Dom through the doorway, but this time it was Dirae who rose and made her way over to them. “Astele, what have I told you about giving the tuk’ata tasting samples? Tempt them with too sweet a Jedi and they will already be spoiled for dinner.”

Dom’s eyes turned huge and round. “Wait… what –”

Dirae pulled a handkerchief from the folds of her dress and dabbed at Dom’s face. “Simply whimsy, little Jedi. It was humor.” She smiled at him and handed him the handkerchief. “Adrestin will be cooking dinner for us, so be sure to be cleaned up and presentable by the time he is finished. Run along.”

Astele beamed at her before dragging Dom through the doorway and vanishing from sight. They could still hear the faint sounds of Dom attempting to argue about something, and both Siv and Adrestin exchanged smiles.

“I am also glad that they have struck up their own friendship as well,” Adrestin said, chuckling. “Astele has long wished for a companion closer to her own age that could also keep up with her.”

Siv snorted and shook his head, smile still on his face. “Well, I’m not too sure how well Dom actually _keeps up_ with her, but he does seem to be enjoying himself anyway.”

Dirae nodded at both of them. “He shines brightly, though with more colour than I would have thought a Jedi normally would have.” She gestured towards one of the other doors. “I am sure you know where the pantry and kitchen are, Adrestin. And here I will take my leave. I wish to catch up with Erion, so if you need me for anything I will be with them among the burial mounds.” She bowed her head slightly, once to Adrestin and once to Siv, and then she glided away.

Siv flopped back down on the couch next to Adrestin and blew out a breath. “This turned out a lot easier than I thought it was going to be.”

“What do you mean?”

Siv shrugged. “Well, it’s just… Everything’s so _normal._ Meeting your friend, and all. You even have _tuk’ata_ here, and they like Dom? As if they’re just some weird family pet. It’s all so _normal.”_ He waved his hands at the air.

Adrestin laughed, rich and full of warmth. “I hesitate to ask what you had actually expected. We are all just people, Siv. Jedi and Sith alike. We live everyday lives as does everyone else.”

Siv gave him a sheepish grin. “Jedi training was thorough in a lot of ways, but it did nothing to prepare me for this.”

Adrestin patted his arm. “Nor does a Sith apprenticeship usually cover such ground, either. Now, I had better begin planning dinner, to fulfill my duty to our gracious host.”

“Can I help?”

“You certainly do not need to feel obligated.”

The sheepish grin remained. “I kind of want to.”

“In that case, an extra pair of hands is always beneficial.”

Siv rose again to his feet and gestured towards the door that Dirae had indicated led to the kitchen. “After you, then.”

One corner of Adrestin's mouth quirked up. “You first.”

Siv grinned at the familiar words. “Together then.”

 

* * * *

 

A little over an hour later and all six Jedi and Sith were seated on cushions around a low table, and Adrestin was doling out portions for each person’s plate. Astele was bouncing up and down on her cushion, inhaling deeply of the smells wafting off of each dish. “Okay, so tell me what I’m looking at because this all smells _amazing.”_

Adrestin favoured her with an indulgent smile. “Well… we are starting off with a few traditional dishes of _gi_ dumpling soup and Gruuvan _shaal,_ nothing too fancy. But our main course is Karkan ribene, seasoned with negamo and catabar, with a side of roasted and spiced Viamarr blackroot.” He gestured to the dish of small red vegetables on the side. “The Bellassan peppers compliment the blackroots’ rich flavour nicely.”

<Unusual for you to combine Trandoshan and Twi’lek food, Belus.> Erion shifted their respirator into a different mode so they could slide open the lower portion to eat. <Not to mention Mandalorian.>

Astele huffed. “Whatever, I don’t care. It smells so _good._ Can we _please_ eat now?”

“Of course, help yourself.”

As Astele dug in without another word, Adrestin inclined his head towards Siv. “And combining the Twi’lek with Trandoshan was Sivin’s idea. He assisted me with cooking. And I must admit the flavours and textures complement each other quite well.”

Erion froze, and raised a single eyebrow at Adrestin. <You allowed the Jedi to handle our food.>

“Yes?”

Erion carefully set down their utensils and calibrated their respirator to only atmosphere again. <Noted.>

Dirae frowned. “Please don’t be like that, Eri. I have welcomed both of these Jedi into my house, and trust Adrestin’s word that they will behave as proper guests.”

Erion just shook their head and studied Sivin’s face. <I do not share your acceptance. A Jedi is still a Jedi. These two _burn_ with the Light Side. They are not _friends._ They are not _allies._ Despite what Adrestin is being led to believe.>

Sivin dropped his head to stare down at his plate. Both Astele and Dom shifted uncomfortably in their seats, looking from Sivin to Erion and back again. But Adrestin just _gurgle-clicked_ in the back of his throat and pointed a clawed finger at Erion. “I do appreciate what amount of patience you have had for me and my idiosyncrasies, Erion. And I understand that you do not share my optimism about Sivin and Domthus. But you are bordering on rude to Dirae, for she is hosting all of us and you are refusing to eat in her home.”

It was Erion’s eyes that dropped to their plate this time. Their respirator clicked and hissed in annoyance, but they ultimately calibrated their rebreather once again and began to pick carefully at their plate.

Everyone else resumed eating as well, but with a rather awkward tension. Several moments went by before Dom broke the silence, and he directed his words at Erion. “...We were almost done with your cybernetic arm when we rerouted to Bosthirda. Astele and I could have it finished in less than an hour.”

Erion’s intense gaze jerked sharply up from their plate to study Dom, who swallowed hard and flushed a mottled purple around his horns. “I – I mean, if you still wanted it. It – it’s supposed to have the exact dimensions as your natural arm, s-so you could conceal it in clothing and it wouldn’t look weird.”

“That was Dom’s idea too.” Astele muttered, never looking up from her plate. “He wanted to make sure you’d be comfortable in it.”

Erion still glared at Dom, but slowly the sharpness in their gaze softened just enough to take the edge off of their stare. <…I still have reservations, Jedi. But I will allow time to tell me whether your colours run true.>

Dom gave them a weak smile. “Thank you.”

Adrestin placed another skewer of _shaal_ on Dom’s plate, one set of eyes focusing on the little Jedi as the other took in all the rest of their group. “There is also ryshcate for dessert, for anyone who is interested.”

Erion scowled, but it was in mock anger. <Leave it to you to make the dessert with Corellian whiskey in it, Belus.>

Adrestin grinned, showing every tooth. “I know the way to your heart.”

The _click-wheeze_ of Erion’s rare laughter sounded metallic through their rebreather. <It is no wonder we have remained friends as long as we have. You exploit my weaknesses without mercy.>

“And will continue to do so, for as long as we live. Shall I bring out the ryshcate then?”

He was answered by a resounding affirmative from all Jedi and Sith alike.

 

* * * *

 

Morning came slowly, the early blush of dawn filtering in through the mottled translucent dome above where Adrestin and Sivin slept. Siv yawned and stretched, uncurling from Adrestin’s side to swing his legs over the bowl-shaped bed. They had gone to bed early – one of the side effects of eating a lot of ryshcate after a full meal was the tendency for one to get very sleepy _very_ quickly. Siv estimated that he’d probably gotten in nearly ten standard hours of dreamless sleep, which was probably a record for him if he had ever thought to keep track.

He twisted around so he could see Adrestin, who was still flat on his back with one arm draped over both sets of eyes. Sivin could feel the vibration from his low-frequency _click-rattle_ right through the bed, and he couldn’t help but smile. “Can’t say I’ve ever had a friend quite like you,” he whispered, careful to keep his voice down in case Adrestin’s sleep was light. “Though if you keep feeding me like last night, the Order is going to lock me in the gymnasium with Master Cheyrhute for a week just to get me back into shape.”

“Mm.” Adrestin’s smile could be seen peeking out from underneath his arm. “Then perhaps we should have a few sparring sessions in the meantime.”

Sivin chuckled. “I thought you were still asleep.”

Adrestin stretched and let loose a cavernous yawn before peering up at Siv with only one set of eyes. “Half of me is.”

“Oh, heh. I forgot about that little trick of yours.”

“It is certainly convenient. Although if you take me up on the offer I will be sure to be fully cognizant before we begin.”

Sivin tilted his head to one side. “Offer? Oh! Sparring. Yeah, sure. Sounds like fun.”

Adrestin sat up and stretched once more, flexing his claws and cracking his knuckles as he did so. “The large patch of low grass that we landed the ship at the corner of should be plenty of space. Would you like to try for hand-to-hand, or with lightsabers?”

Siv hesitated briefly before shrugging. “We can try with lightsabers first.”

Adrestin noticed the pause. “You know I would not hurt you. But if you are not comfortable with the use of live blades, we can always scale back the output on them into training mode.”

“Sure. Okay. That sounds good. When do you want to start?”

“Whenever you are ready.” Adrestin wrestled himself out of bed and into a fresh set of clothes, and Sivin followed suit.

“Remind me to thank Dirae for cleaning my robes last night. As much as I don’t mind using yours, it’s good to be back in my own.”

Adrestin quirked up one corner of his mouth. “I’ll be sure to remind you.” He offered Siv his arm. “Shall we?”

 

When they made their way outside, they noticed that even in the early morning hours they were not alone. Rustling in the tall grass off near the next hill gave away their position, and within moments Astele’s high-pitched shriek of delight met their ears. Dom’s voice could be heard rising with hers and at first Siv thought it was in alarm, but as they listened the distinctive tone of glee could be heard. Without any warning the rustling in the brush became frenzied, and with one smooth movement a massive creature leapt clear of the grass and glided a dozen meters away on vestigial remnants of wings. Both Dom and Astele clung between the creature’s shoulder blades, whooping and laughing with abandon as the creature made a concealed landing back among the grasses.

Siv’s jaw dropped. “Are they… they’re actually _riding_ a tuk’ata, aren’t they?”

Adrestin nodded, tiny smile betraying his amusement. “I believe that is one of the whelps I bred last year. Jucada, I believe Astele named him. He still has much growing to do, but they bonded very early. I would not be surprised if it is less than a year before she has him trained well enough to take off-planet.”

“You breed tuk’ata as well. You’re just a master of all trades, eh?”

“As you say.” Adrestin stepped off a few paces ahead and turned to regard Sivin, one of his lightsabers in hand. “Shall we?”

“Sure.” Sivin drew his own lightsaber and activated the blade, the blue-green light making the hazy pink of the slow sunrise mottled against his skin. He saluted Adrestin with his blade and settled into the opening stance for Ataru.

Adrestin activated his saber and returned the salute, his own orange-red blade reflecting the fire of Dark Side corruption in his eyes. He too chose the Ataru opening stance, and nodded at Siv.

But Sivin hesitated. Seeing the crimson hue of a Sith lightsaber brought him jarringly back to the wider reality. The same hands that had cooked him dinner the night before and had comforted Siv when he was grieving now held a blade that had caused the death of many Jedi, some of which Siv might have once called friends. Adrestin’s eyes burned with the corruption the Dark Side caused with frequent use, and even from where he stood Sivin could feel that Dark Side coursing through Adrestin’s veins, pulsing with his heartbeat and twisting around him with every move he made.

Sivin froze. The tension within him threatened to break into a battle-ready adrenaline rush if he moved so much as a muscle in Adrestin’s direction. “I – I don’t think I can do this.”

Adrestin promptly lowered and deactivated his blade. He clipped it back to his belt and slowly approached Siv, extending a hand. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yes. No. _No,_ I’m not kriffing _alright,_ I can’t just –”

Adrestin’s hand closed over Sivin’s own, still clutching his activated lightsaber in a white-knuckled grip. “Easy, Sivin. Easy. We don’t have to spar. Shall we go for a walk instead?”

Siv squeezed his eyes tightly shut until he saw stars behind his eyelids, then slowly opened them, releasing a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Okay… okay.” He deactivated his blade and let it fall into Adrestin’s hand. “Sorry – I’m just – _stars,_ what is wrong with me?”

Adrestin slid Siv’s lightsaber back into its hilt by his side. “Nothing is wrong with you, Siv. But we can talk about it if you want to.”

Siv ran a trembling hand through his tendrils. _“Auugh,_ this is _ridiculous._ I’m not _afraid_ of you, it’s just… I don’t know, that blade and that colour just make me… _something._ I can’t find the words. I’m sorry. I’m just...” He sat heavily in the grass, flopping backwards to lie staring up at the slowly brightening sky.

Adrestin sat down beside him. “Conditioning is difficult to overcome, even when in a safe and happy environment. It is not your fault. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Right.” Siv heaved a sigh. “Why do I feel so guilty, then?”

Adrestin didn’t answer with words. He reached out a hand to stroke Siv’s forehead, his low-frequency vibration more felt than heard.

Sivin closed his eyes and tried to will away his frustration with himself, intoning the words of the Jedi code mentally to himself even as they sounded hollow and distant. He finally just gave up and focused on the low sounds Adrestin was making. It might not give him any answers, but at least it was soothing. His shaking stopped, and he risked a glance up at Adrestin. “...Why do Sith always have to have red lightsabers, anyway?”

“Not always, but frequently. At this point it is largely tradition.” Adrestin leaned back to prop himself up on his elbows. “Long ago, when the Jedi and Sith were recently sundered apart, the Sith were driven away to the edges of the galaxy. Without access to the worlds that held the traditional sources of crystals, the Sith resorted to synthesizing their own. The result happened to be red in colour, and even though we have access to a wider range of sources now we still tend towards red as a cultural identifier more than anything else.”

“Oh. Huh.” Sivin frowned. “We were always told it was because you made Jedi crystals bleed.”

Adrestin burst out laughing, the sudden rich sound ringing full and vibrant in the Force. “Bleed? By the stars, how would you get a mineral to _bleed?”_

His friend’s mirth was contagious, and Siv snickered. “Honestly? No clue. It always sounded a little too much like...” he wiggled his fingers in the air, “poetic mystical _nonsense_ to me. But it’s not like I had anything else to go on.”

“I suppose not.” But Adrestin suddenly furrowed his brow in concentration, and he cast his eyes up to the early morning sky. “...I think we may have company.”

Far above them, the boxy shape of a small ship began to descend, slowly growing larger as it circled around looking for a place to land. Both Siv and Adrestin got to their feet and backed away towards the buildings of Dirae’s home. Siv threw an uncertain glance over at Adrestin. “Do you know them?”

“Unfortunately for the circumstances, yes. This can only mean one thing.”

From behind them the door to the house slid open, and Dirae came up to stand beside Adrestin. The three of them watched the ship make its final approach, Dirae’s face grim and her mouth set in a thin line. She sighed. “I am afraid I must apologize for this intrusion. It appears that my brother is being returned home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate the "new canon" bullshit about lightsaber crystals so as far as I'm concerned it is nothing more than Jedi propaganda and/or Sith fabrication to make them seem more intimidating. 
> 
> Also I miiiiiiight have gotten a little preachy about falling and redemption and Light and Dark because I hate the Jedi and fuck the Jedi Order and everything it stands for, but I am trying SO HARD not to let all my salt and vitriol and bitterness show through. And failing. WHUPS.


	11. In Which Another Introduction Is Made, And It Is Exceedingly Awkward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Dirae's brother is being returned to her temporary custody under less than ideal circumstances. He introduces himself to Sivin, and while their conversation is rather awkward, some of his words leave Siv wondering...

The boxy, dull green ship made a smooth, if inelegant, landing near where Adrestin had left the _Archon Red._ Steam hissed from its pressure releases as the loading ramp lowered, and the shadow of whoever was inside began coughing as they emerged. A short stumpy arm waved steam away from a wide-mouthed face, and the ruddy Hutt they belonged to slid slowly down the ramp, one hand dragging a very wide-eyed and cringing Mikkian. As soon as he caught sight of Dirae, the Hutt shoved his charge forward and planted his fists where hips normally would have been. “Lord Dirae, consider this the official complaint – the _fifty-second,_ actually, official complaint – concerning Graz Natirune.”

Dirae stepped forward to take her brother’s arm, her glowing yellow eyes narrowing sharply when his gaze met hers. “I apologize once again for his trespasses, Darth Nothus. And I thank you for returning him.”

Nothus scoffed. “Don’t thank me. The only reason he’s not dead yet is because he is your kin and you are a member of the Tribunal.”

She inclined her head, icy glare still focused on her tight-lipped brother. “I am aware that my status is the only thing keeping him alive on many occasions. Pity he does not seem to recognize that himself.”

“This is the _last_ occasion. _Honestly,_ Lord Dirae, we are at the proverbial end of our rope, here.” Nothus sniffed and jabbed a finger in Graz’s direction. “Do you know where I found him?”

“I can only imagine, Nothus –”

“ _Do you know where I found him?”_

Dirae sighed, her glowing gaze flicking over to Graz before fastening back on Nothus. “Where?”

“Thirion Wol, Dirae. _Thirion Wol._ Upon my ancestors’ _mantles,_ Dirae, he was _this close_ to breaking into Darth Raudur’s cairn!” He shoved his hands together, hovering mere millimeters apart. _“This close!”_

Dirae’s cold gaze flicked from Nothus to Graz, one slender eyebrow raising.

Nothus dug around in the satchel hanging from his shoulder belt, and pulled out a data card. “This is the official statement. Lord Acerra sends a message that if she ever sees him within a _sector_ of that system again, his life is forfeit. We can’t afford to keep putting up with this kind of thing.” He heaved an emphatic sigh. “Family or no, Dirae. We can’t afford it. He’s gone over the line too many times now.”

Dirae nodded as she took the card, hair tendrils drifting with the movement. “I understand.”

Nothus turned and slithered towards the ramp to his ship. At the base he paused. “It’s not that I don’t sympathize with you. I do. I have family too, and none of them understand what it means to be Sith. But Lord Glaucus and Lord Acerra have jurisdiction in this matter, and Graz is too high a risk.”

Again, Dirae nodded. “I have always appreciated your candor, Nothus. And I understand your worry. If Graz ventures into Sith space unescorted again, I will not intercede on his behalf, and he will no longer find asylum here.”

“I will inform Acerra and my Master.” Nothus inclined his heavy head to Dirae, then as if he had just noticed the others lingering behind Dirae for the first time, bowed briefly in Adrestin’s direction. “Lord Belus. My Master said that if you were here, to give you greetings.”

Adrestin returned the bow with a nod of his head. “Extend my own greetings to Glaucus. It has been too long since I have seen him.”

“I’ll pass it along. Lord Belus. Lord Dirae.” He frowned at Sivin, then shrugged. “Guest.” But he didn’t linger for introductions. Without another word, he turned and boarded his ship.

As they watched the boxy ship take off, Astele and Dom crept out from the grass behind the landing area and came up to stand between Sivin and Dirae. Astele blew out a breath and scowled. “So that’s it then? If Graz does something stupid again they’re just going to kill him?”

Dirae sighed and pressed a hand to her temple, rubbing small circles into her skin with her fingertips. “He will have brought it on himself, Astele. You know what he does.”

“Hey, I’m right here you know.” Graz opened his mouth for the first time, and wriggled out of his sister’s grip. “And what do you mean something stupid _again?_ Everything I do is a calculated risk. It’s not _my_ fault all you kriffing Sith are creepily aware of everything that happens that’s even _vaguely_ related to you.”

Astele just rolled her eyes at him. “Whatever. You manage to bring me anything good this time, or did Nothus confiscate it all?”

Dirae gave Astele a reproving look. “If there is anything he has stolen from a Sith shrine or –”

“I know _I know,_ I’m just asking! Usually he finds those little candies at the bordering spaceports...”

Graz gave her a nervous, crooked grin. “Aren’t you getting a little old for presents?”

Astele made a face. “Nobody is _ever_ too old for presents. Tell him, Dom.” She shoved him forward and gestured at Graz. “Dom, this is Graz. He’s kind of an idiot but sometimes he finds cool stuff. Graz, this is Dom.”

Graz looked Dom up and down, an eyebrow raising as he took a step back and glanced uneasily at Dirae. “How many more Sith are you collecting for this place, anyway?”

Dirae just shook her head, but Dom crossed his arms and huffed. “I’m not a _Sith,_ I’m a –”

Astele clapped a hand over his mouth, muffling his words. “Well look at the time. Gotta run. Catch you later, Graz.” She glared daggers at Dom before removing her hands from his face and dragging him back into the grass that they came from.

Siv and Adrestin had been watching with mild amusement, but as soon as Astele and Dom disappeared into the brush, Graz turned and eyeballed Sivin. “Hey now… I’ve seen _you_ before, someplace. And it wasn’t on any Sith world, either.”

Siv exchanged glances with Adrestin before shrugging. “Maybe I have one of those faces, eh?”

Graz’s gaze flicked up and down, gaging Siv. “No, I’m pretty sure it was you. Can’t place a _name_ with the face, though.”

Adrestin cut in and placed a heavy hand on Graz’s shoulder, making him jump and cringe. “It has been a few months since you’ve seen your sister, has it not? Perhaps you should inform her of what you have been doing while you have been out of her sight.” He turned Graz in the direction of Dirae and the house, and gave him a none-too-gentle shove forward. “Run along, now.”

Graz nearly lost his balance from the push, but he hopped forward to his sister’s side. “Right, okay. Hi Sis. Miss me?” His half-cocked grin had a tense edge to it, and as he spoke he shot nervous sidelong glances over at Adrestin.

Dirae sighed, and the echo in her voice deepened as she regarded her brother with weary patience. “No, I did not. And you do not wish to be here any more than I wish you here as well. But come, I will ensure you get something to eat before contacting an escort to take you back to Republic space.” She ushered him inside, leaving Adrestin and Sivin to themselves.

Adrestin pinched the scaled skin between his lower pair of eyes. “Dirae makes every effort to keep him out of places he does not belong, but eventually even _her_ patience will run to an end.”

Siv scratched at the back of his head, tangling his tendrils through his fingers. “So he just… keeps coming back to Sith space? Even though he’d be perfectly fine in the Republic?”

“I honestly do not have any idea how the Republic views him, but he is opportunistic and holds loyalty to no one. I would estimate that he breaks into the sacred spaces of the Jedi with just as much frequency and gusto as he does the Sith.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Although from what I can tell, he does not harbor the same fears and animosity towards the Jedi that he has for the Sith.”

“What happened? I mean, his sister is a Sith. You’d think that’d come with perks.”

One corner of Adrestin’s mouth curved up. “Occasionally. But Mikkia is within Republic space, and Force-sensitive individuals fall under Jedi jurisdiction there. According to that line of thinking, Dirae should have been inducted into the Jedi Order as an infant. If you ask her brother, he will say that she was never meant to be a Sith in the first place.”

“Oh. Huh.” Siv settled back down on the grass, sitting cross-legged in a spot that gave him a good view of the last stage of sunrise and gesturing next to him as an invitation for Adrestin to join him. “So… what happened there? How’d she end up avoiding the Republic’s mandatory testing?”

“She was born during interstellar travel.” Adrestin took him up on the offer and sat down next to him. “But when the family finally returned to Mikkia it was years later, with several additional children being born as well. Dirae was well over a standard decade old before the Order finally caught wind that there was an untrained Force-sensitive child there.”

Sivin winced in sympathy. “So she would have been sent to AgriCorps.”

“I do not know. She never made it that far.” Adrestin extended a hand out in front of him and used the Force to push a cloud of air upward, drawing the silky seeds of the grass up with it to dance on the breeze. “She fled. Mikkia is close to the non-aligned planets between Republic and Sith held space. I found her in a spaceport on a neutral border world, attempting to get lost in the crowd. I introduced her to my own Master at the time, and it did not take long before she found a Master of her own to take her as an apprentice. It would be another standard decade before she met her brother again, under circumstances not unlike the situation you witnessed earlier.”

Siv added his own push in the Force to the gust of wind, making the seeds spiral higher. “I can’t imagine he was too thrilled. He seems pretty apprehensive about everyone here. Even Astele.”

Adrestin nodded, nudging the seeds into loops and whorls. “He has no Force sensitivity of his own, so he has only his physical senses for gaging power or threat. And to him, all Sith are a potential threat. Astele included. And, apparently, Dom as well.”

Siv snickered and gave the seeds one final push, letting the air currents dissipate them to the breeze. “I don’t know which is funnier, thinking Dom is a Sith, or thinking he’s a threat.”

Adrestin favoured him with a small smile. “In any event, I wanted to have some time with Erion. If Dom and Astele did indeed finish their new arm after yesterday’s dinner as those two swore they did last night, then Eri might wish some sparring practice to break it in.” He stood up and brushed himself off. “And I also think it time that I talked to them privately about you and Dom. They are not being difficult for the sake of hostility, they are worried. Above all, for my safety. And If I can alleviate some of that worry then I wish to do so.”

Sivin nodded. “You find your friend, and I’ll get a little hike in. Just don’t let me miss lunch.”

Adrestin chuckled and leaned down to pat Siv on the shoulder. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He turned and vanished into the taller grass, heading towards the burial mounds.

Siv stretched and yawned, cracking the bones in his shoulders before flopping backwards to stare up at the sky. He could still see a few of the wispy fluffs of grass seed drifting high in the air, and he lay there watching them until they rose too high for him to see.

A flicker in the Force betrayed the presence of someone approaching him from the side, and he sat up quickly and twisted around to see who it was.

Graz jumped at Siv’s sudden movement, holding his hands up in front of him. “Hey, whoa, it’s just me. I just survived the lecture of my _life,_ let me tell you. But anyway, we didn’t really get a proper introduction earlier.” He held out a hand. “I’m Graz. Graz Natirune. Paleontologist, archaeologist, and general aficionado of antiquities.”

Siv took his hand, but hesitated to give him his name. “...Nice to meet you.”

Graz flashed him a lopsided grin. “And you’re Jedi Master Sivin Ikalruq, aren’t you? From BrightWatch? I knew I’ve seen your face before. All over the Republic.”

Siv flinched and gave him a wan smile. “Guilty as charged.”

“Man, am I surprised to see a Jedi here. I mean, I can’t say I’ve not seen _weirder_ things, but still. Anyway. Can I sit?”

Siv gestured to the spot Adrestin had vacated, and Graz settled in next to him. “So it’d probably be real rude to ask how you ended up on Bosthirda and I don’t need to know the details anyway, it’s pretty obvious Darth Belus is the reason you’re here. Dirae says it’s a hostage situation, and man, that sucks. But...” He leaned in conspiratorially, his voice dropping to a whisper. “What if I could get you out of here? There’s supposed to be some sort of escort ship coming to pick me up. Undoubtedly it’ll be a _Sith,_ but if _you_ snuck on board?” He snapped his fingers, grin widening. “Not a problem. You could bump them off without a hitch, and we’re both free.”

Siv frowned, shaking his head. “Wait, it’s not like –”

“Honestly this happens a lot so I know what to expect. I know the kinds of ships they use for hauling my ass back to Republic space. I know where you could get on board, I know where you could hide until we’re up _there.”_ He pointed at the sky, and Siv thought he could see a few grass seeds drifting back down to the ground. “So you could hide, kill off whatever Sith is aboard, and then _bam._ We have a Sith ship. We could go anywhere we wanted. And let me tell you, there’s a really kriffing amazing archaeological site they’re hiding on Thirion Wol. And look I know that’s dangerous, but you’re _BrightWatch._ This is what you _do._ What do you say I get you in, you let me do a little research and save a few non-deadly, not-so-Sithly relics for posterity, and then you get to do your thing and blast the whole place to oblivion. Sound good?”

Graz’s rapidfire speech left Sivin’s head spinning. He opened his mouth to say something, closed it again in bewilderment, then tried again. “I can’t, the Jedi Council will be contacting Adres– will be contacting _Darth Belus_ about a prisoner trade. If I’m gone –”

“If you’re already gone then they don’t have anything to worry about. Everybody wins. Except the _Sith,_ but who cares about them? Besides, I can _definitely_ make it worth your while.” He slid a little closer to Siv, tilting his head to the side to try and catch Siv’s gaze. “It’s a long way from here to Thirion Wol, and back to the Jedi Temple. A guy can get kind of bored in all that hyperspace, but I can prove to be a pretty pleasant, heh, distraction.”

Siv’s eyebrows shot up with realization and he leaned away from Graz, smiling nervously. “Uh, wow, no um… okay so I’m flattered and all, but I don’t really –”

“I get that you’re a Jedi and you’re not supposed to fool around with people because of like, attachments or something, but I’m not confessing true love or anything here. Just suggesting a little fun.” His lopsided grin turned sly. “I’ve never received a complaint, once somebody takes me up on the offer.”

Siv held up his hands, waving them as if he were warding off a wild animal. “It’s not that – okay well I mean yes that’s true that we’re not supposed to form attachments, but I’m just not –”

“You know most Jedi I run into are pretty happy with the end results,” Graz said dryly. “But if you think you’re not interested because you don’t swing that way, you’d be surprised what you can find out about yourself–”

“I’m not. I’m not interested. At all.” Siv stood up, awkwardly shoving his head tendrils away from his face. “I’m not interested in _you,_ I’m not interested in _anyone,_ and I’m really flattered and all I guess, but – thanks but no thanks. Sorry. I just. Look, I gotta go.”

Graz got to his feet as well and crossed his arms. “You’re missing out on the only opportunity you’re probably going to ever have to escape, Ikalruq. That’s a separate offer, by the way, I’m not an asshole. And _you_ don’t have to be a _prisoner.”_

Siv shook his head emphatically. “I’m not a _prisoner,_ okay? It’s not what it appears to be. I don’t need to escape.”

Graz raised one eyebrow and his crooked grin returned, but this time out of confusion. “If you’re not a prisoner, then what are you even _doing_ here?”

“I don’t – I’m not – that’s… look, that’s not really your business. Okay? I’m just… going to go for a walk. Alone.”

Graz heaved a sigh and shrugged. “Fine, fine. I can take a hint. Suit yourself. You’ve got until my escort ship arrives to change your mind.” He ambled off back towards the house, leaving Siv by himself.

Siv held his breath until Graz disappeared through the door, then blew it out in an exasperated and frustrated sigh. “Of all the things…” He shook his head violently in an attempt to clear it and to work out some of the nervous tension Graz had unexpectedly caused. He started to walk, wading into the tall grass surrounding Dirae’s home. Tall enough to see over it, he avoided the spot where Dom and Astele had disappeared and instead made his way north towards a series of low hills.

The brush grew shorter as he climbed, until it was no more than waist high for him. If he turned to look at the idle path he had taken, he would have been able to see the domes of Dirae’s house a little less than half a kilometer away. He ran his fingers over the nodding tops of the grass, stirring up the downy seeds and causing them to float all around him through the light breeze. Their silky fibers caught the rays of the late morning sun, making the air seem to sparkle.

But his mind was far from the simple beauty of the world around him. Instead, he found himself running in mental circles around the last thing that Graz had asked. What _was_ he doing here? It’s not as though he actually _belonged._ He was a Jedi, infamous for destruction of anything Sith he could get his hands on, stranded in the heart of the Sith Empire, for stars’ sake! And _willingly,_ too. All because of the highly unexpected kindness of a Sith Lord.

And he couldn’t deny that Adrestin’s friendship was genuine. No matter how harsh and sharp Adrestin felt in the Force, no matter how much the Dark Side boiled within him, the warmth he held for Sivin was true. And so vibrant it was almost tangible. No one Siv had ever known had ever offered him such friendship before, and Siv had responded in kind. It made him so… Happy. Relaxed. Content.

_Attached._

Sudden anxiety made Siv’s heart jump into his throat and tears sting his eyes. He wiped at them furiously, trying to remember what Adrestin had said what seemed like a lifetime ago. What had it been? Something like… that Sivin shined so brilliantly in the Light Side of the Force that he was almost blinding? And something about how his heart knew where it lay, and that it was something Sivin could trust.

He laughed out loud, bitter and rueful. “Right. And then his _friend_ explains to me how hearts sometimes go _wandering_ if they see something new. Or whatever. Yeah, of _course_ that sounds like something I can trust.”

And he certainly didn’t _feel_ like he was shining brilliantly with the Light. He felt like he was groping his way through a fog, instead. He hadn’t even been able to focus for _one simple_ recitation of the Jedi Code, much less meditate properly to drain his mind of questions. His mind was supposed to be clear – clarity was what gave a Jedi all the understanding they needed. With understanding came knowledge and serenity, and the rest of the code fell into place. But ever since he had met Adrestin, nothing had been clear.

More tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision. He scrubbed his face with the back of his hand and tried to blink them away. “The _last_ thing I need is some kriffing symbolism about how I can’t even _see.”_ He snarled in frustration with himself, digging the heels of his palms against his eyelids.

“Sivin!”

He jumped, turning at the faint sound of his name being called in a watery, echoing voice. Dirae was halfway between him and the house, waving a slender hand in his direction. _“Sivin!”_

He scrubbed once more at his eyes and then loped down the hill to meet her, apprehension rising at the sound of urgency in her voice. “What’s wrong?”

As soon as he reached her, she grabbed his hand and pulled him back towards her home. “Please hurry. Your Jedi Council has informed your BrightWatch team of a decision, and they have contacted Adrestin. They are demanding evidence that you are still whole and alive before they will say anything further.”

Sivin’s heart felt both as though it had jumped straight up into his throat but had also managed to drop right through to the ground. He tried to swallow it, trying in vain to keep the tremor out of his voice. “I won’t keep them waiting. Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothus, Acerra, and Glaucus have an independent story outside of what's happening here, and remain some of the few of my Sith that I've actually drawn before. I haven't posted any of the written stuff on them though, most of it is still wrapped up in an RP and I want to wait until we're finished before polishing it up.  
> Graz also has his own story, but that's one I haven't finished yet and don't even know how it ends. 
> 
> Aaaaaaand finally, here we are. Poor Siv. Shit's about to hit the fan.


	12. In Which Negotiations Are Made, And Apprehension Builds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Under orders from the Jedi Council, BrightWatch contacts the Sith again. This time they have a counteroffer, and Sivin ends up with a lot of thinking to do.

“I speak for both the Council and for BrightWatch, and I refuse to discuss anything further until I see Commander Ikalruq in front of me.” Zarinne’s facial tentacles writhed around her yellow eyes, agitated and impatient. The hologram seemed to reflect her stress with a fitful flicker, occasionally dissolving into a burst of static as the great distance between Jedi and Sith stretched the signal too thin. But her voice came through with a clarity that only emphasized her anger. “Either I see my Commander within the minute, or this ‘negotiation’ is finished before it even starts.”

Adrestin stood in front of the hologram, tapping the edges of the metal housing of the transceiver with a claw. He _gurgle-clicked_ in the back of his throat in annoyance, but his voice was calm and cold. “And I have told you, I sent my subordinate to fetch him. I am not foolish enough to allow Jedi to wander freely in my compound.”

With Dirae hovering behind him, Siv peeked into the room. Erion was already there, standing just behind Adrestin and scowling at Zarinne’s hologram with the most venomous look Siv had ever seen on their face. Astele and Dom were seated on the floor off to the side, out of the view range of the transmitter and both looking very anxious as they clutched each other’s hand. Siv found himself breathing a small sigh of relief that the holotransmitter was indeed facing the opposite direction of the threshold he was standing in. At least Zarinne wouldn’t be able to see him until Adrestin pulled him in front of the hologram. He swallowed hard and gave his friend a little nervous wave to let him know he was there.

Adrestin nodded once at him, and gestured to Dirae. She reached around to Siv’s hip and slipped the lightsaber from his belt, whispering in his ear as she did so. “More convincing of you if you held your hands behind your back. I must be your captor for a moment.”

Siv nodded, tucking his hands behind him as she suggested. She curled her long fingers around his arm and pulled him forward, bringing them both up to stand beside Adrestin and into the viewing range of the transmitter.

Adrestin grabbed him roughly by his collar and shoved him at Zarinne’s hologram. “One Jedi Commander, as requested. Now _talk,_ Jedi. You said your Council had a counteroffer.”

Zarinne ignored Adrestin. She raised an arm tentacle as though she could touch Siv, then dropped it suddenly. “Commander! Are you alright? Your eyes are swollen – have they hurt you?”

Siv shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware that it was not only Zarinne’s concerned gaze fixating on him, but Adrestin’s as well. “W-well it’s no walk in the park, heh, but I’m okay. Really. I’m okay.”

Zarinne’s face tentacles flattened back in what Siv could only interpret as disbelief, but she didn’t press the issue. Her eyes didn’t leave Siv, but she addressed the Sith. “Our Council has conceded to the release of _one_ Sith in exchange for Sivin and Domthus. Darth Cinaede and Darth Gallus are both present at the facility we are currently transmitting from. Make your choice and we will present that one to you as proof that they still live. Then we can discuss where the exchange will take place.” She took a deep breath to steel herself for her next words. “I am under orders from the Council to inform you that there is no other negotiation available here. Either take only one as exchange, or all deals are off.”

Adrestin’s four eyes flicked away from Sivin’s face to study Dirae’s, one set of eyebrows raised in a silent question. Dirae only stared at Adrestin with her pale glowing eyes. Yet even Sivin could feel the pulse and pull of the Dark Side around her, silently screaming desperation and demand. No words were exchanged between them, but Adrestin simply nodded and turned back to Zarinne. “Gallus. Bring him before me.”

Zarinne made a motion off-screen, and two Jedi appeared briefly in the background as they exited the door behind her. Within moments they returned, dragging with them a disheveled Rodian with a mohawk of bright red spines. He fought their grip, but weakly. His multifaceted eyes were glassy and unfocused, but the moment the hologram of Dirae passed his vision he twitched and jerked and made every futile attempt he could to focus eye contact. But before any words could be exchanged, Zarinne shoved Gallus and the Jedi holding him back behind her. “There, you’ve seen him. We will bring him aboard the _Vastation_ and deliver him to Diervall IV. You will meet us there for the exchange in thirty standard hours.”

Adrestin snorted, full of derision. “The Diervall system is within Republic borders, Jedi. And much too far from our present location for us to even make it in thirty hours. Try again.”

Zarinne’s tentacles quivered in agitation. “If you will not adhere to the –”

“If _you_ refuse to meet at a genuinely neutral location, then you will never see your Commander again,” Adrestin spat, “and I cannot guarantee his death will be quick _or_ painless.”

Zarinne stiffened visibly on the other end of the transmission. Two of her tentacles reflexively went for the new pair of lightsabers at her side, but she ended up dropping them helplessly to her sides. Her eyes fastened onto Siv’s. “I’m sorry, Commander. I know I shouldn’t want you back this badly, but I have to do this.” Before Siv could open his mouth, she turned back to Adrestin. “Baras Keron. It is neutral, sparsely populated, and located in the center of a neutral area of space.”

Adrestin nodded. “I know of it. That is acceptable. Thirty standard hours.” He keyed off the transmission without another word and stared down at the deactivated hologram pad, pensive.

Dirae released her hold on Siv and slipped his lightsaber back onto his belt, and Siv took a tentative step closer to Adrestin. He laid a hand on his arm and tilted his head to look up at the thoughtful introspection in Adrestin’s eyes. “Still figuring out how this is going to work?”

Adrestin shook his head and pulled his arm away from Sivin’s hand to curl around his waist instead. “There is nothing else to figure. We go through with the exchange.” He paused to gaze down at his friend. “…Unless you have decided you would rather stay, rather than return to the Jedi Order. But I sense that is not the case.” He ushered Siv out of the room and back into the receiving area, followed quickly by the others.

Siv’s heart still felt as though it were being dragged along behind him, and he groaned as he shook his head. “It’s not that I don’t _want_ to, I just… I _can’t_ stay. I _can’t._ If I did…”

“If you did, you are afraid that you would no longer be considered a part of the Jedi Order.” Adrestin guided him back out the front door, arm still around Siv. “And being a part of the Order is extremely important to you.”

Siv hesitated, but nodded. He stared down at the ground as they approached Adrestin’s ship. “I can’t leave the Order. Not after everything they’ve done for me. And not after the promises I’ve made to them in return.”

Erion followed close behind them, Astele and Dom trailing further behind with Dirae holding each of their hands. When they got to the boarding ramp of the _Archon Red,_ Dirae paused and cleared her throat to draw Adrestin’s attention.

“Thirty hours is certainly enough time to reach Baras Keron from here if you leave immediately. But I have a request for you to consider.”

Adrestin inclined his head to Dirae. “And you know I will consider anything you ask of me.”

“You know I would not ask you if I felt it unimportant.” Her voice sounded far away and drifting, as though the words came with difficulty. “But if I send my brother with a standard escort, there is the strong possibility he will not make it to Republic space.”

“And so you wish for me to return him instead.” Adrestin’s voice turned flat. “Your brother is a source of a great deal of difficulty, Lord Dirae.”

She sighed, like wind over waves. “I am aware. But given the warning from Nothus, I trust no one else with his life.”

“Even I have precious little patience for Graz, Lord Dirae.” Adrestin crossed his arms and rested his weight on one hip, all eyes flicking beyond Dirae back to the threshold of the house where a lone figure was lingering by the door. “Only my love for you would allow him to remain in one piece aboard my ship, but even that is a tenuous promise.”

“It is more than anyone else would offer me.” She glanced back at the doorway, her hair tendrils drifting back down around her shoulders as she caught sight of Graz. “I will not order you to take him. I only ask. Please, Adrestin.”

He sighed and rubbed at the scales between his lower pair of eyes. “…He will remain in the brig while he is aboard my ship.”

The relief in Dirae’s glowing eyes was palpable. “Thank you, old friend. Whenever you are ready for him, I will bring him on board.”

Erion brushed by both of them, making a direct line for where Graz lingered by the door. <There is no need. I will secure him.>

Dirae gave Eri a small smile and a nod as they passed, then crouched down to gather both Astele and Dom up in an embrace. “I expect to see you soon, Astele. And you as well, little Jedi, if our paths should ever cross again.”

Astele beamed at her, and Dom’s horns turned a mottled purple in embarrassment. He managed a nod before Dirae released both of them, and she waved them onto the ship. They both scurried up the ramp and disappeared.

Dirae turned back to Adrestin and Siv, but before she could say her goodbyes Erion came up beside them, dragging Graz by his arm. They paused beside Dirae for a moment. <I thank you for your hospitality, Lord Dirae. If it pleases Lord Belus we shall return as soon as we are able.>

Dirae favoured both Adrestin and Erion with a smile. “That would please me greatly. Return my Gallus to me, my brave and valiant Dark Lords.”

Adrestin inclined his head to Dirae. “Consider that our goal.”

“Hey now uh, do I get any say in this?” Graz tugged at the vice-grip Erion had on his arm. “I – I thought you’d already sent for an escort ship, sis.”

“I will inform them of the change in plans.” Dirae turned a cold gaze to her brother. “Do not cause any trouble for my dear friends. Even your relation to me will not stay Lord Belus’s wrath if you test him.”

Graz turned visibly paler and nervous eyes flicked between Adrestin and his sister. “R-right. I’ll just uh –”

Erion yanked him hard, dragging him up the ramp and into the ship.

“Family.” Dirae shook her head and sighed. “Again I thank you for the tolerating the difficulty, Lord Belus.”

“We shall see how things play out. And I thank _you_ for indulging my idiosyncrasies and allowing us to stay here. You have been most patient.”

A thin but gentle smile graced her face. “I admit that your new friends are charming, despite being Jedi. The choices your intuition leads you to make have always been fascinating.”

She turned to Siv and took his hand in both of hers. “Take care, Sivin Ikalruq. Your heart knows where it belongs.”

Siv nodded at her, not willing to risk another upwelling of emotion by trying to speak. She released him and took Adrestin’s hand as well. He gave her a small smile and kissed her hand, squeezing it gently before releasing his hold. “You are a most gracious host, Lord Dirae. I will return soon. And with your Apprentice at my side.”

She nodded, her hair tendrils drifting with the slight currents in the air. She watched as Adrestin led Siv up the ramp and into their ship, and remained watching as they started up their launching cycle and rose slowly into the early afternoon sun.

 

* * * *

 

Adrestin made a line straight for the cockpit to plug the coordinates for Baras Keron into the navicomputer, and Siv made his way to the common area to flop down into the familiar seat next to the dejarik table. He was glad for the moment that Astele and Dom were nowhere to be found, likely holed up in Astele’s quarters already taking apart some hapless piece of electronics. Siv slumped forward to rest his head in his hands, wishing in vain that his heart would calm down and deign to return to his chest. He couldn’t explain why the thought of returning to the Jedi Order filled him with such apprehension and dread, and the fact that he couldn’t explain it only made it worse. 

Erion emerged from the short hall that led to the crew quarters and paused to hover on the threshold to the common area, studying Siv as he sat slouched over the table. Sivin could feel their presence in the Force, harsh and cold and full of unreleased anger. It made him shudder. He tried to ignore them as they moved into the room, staring resolutely at the checkered pattern on the table top as he held his head in his hands. 

But Erion paid no mind to his discomfort. They glided their repulsor over to hover next to where Siv sat, and after a long moment of silent staring, placed their natural hand tentatively on Siv’s shoulder. <…Your conflict is churning within you in the Force.>

Siv flinched at their touch. “Heh. That obvious, eh?”

<You do not wish to leave Belus. That much even I can see.>

He winced again, but nodded slowly. “I’ve never met anyone like him. I just… I can’t stay. It doesn’t matter what I want.”

Erion squeezed, their grip firm. <Yet you care for him.>

“Yes.”

<Then stay.>

Siv sat up, eyes widening. “You _want_ me to stay?”

Erion shrugged, their perpetual scowl still etched onto their face. <No. But Belus cares for you. And you care for him. Staying proves that. If you remain with us, you do it for him. Even I cannot deny the honesty in that.> Their respirator clicked with their annoyance at admitting it. <And if you stay, it makes Belus happy. Such things have high priority.>

Siv gave Erion a weak smile, but Eri just shook their head and floated back the way they had come. They slipped around the corner and back down the hall without another word, and as they vanished Adrestin approached from the cockpit. He watched the spot that Eri had just vacated, and a corner of his mouth twitched in a fleeting smile.

“Eri cares very much for both my safety and my happiness. You understand how much they are torn about how to relate to you.” He slipped in next to Siv and curled an arm around him.

“…Yeah.” Siv sighed and rested his head on Adrestin’s shoulder. “But I still can’t stay. Not… Not right now. I could… Maybe I could come back? Later? Do you think we could sort out some way to meet up again?”

Siv could feel Adrestin gently kiss the top of his head. “Of course. That much is easy. But I do not want you to feel rushed or under pressure to do so. If you have thoughts and feelings you need to sort through, then you should take all the time you need to work through them. And Sivin –” He pulled away from Siv to take him by the shoulders, forcing eye contact. “Please remember. I have never tried to seduce you to the Dark Side, and I never will. And I will never knowingly or willingly hurt you, or attempt to pull you away from the things that matter most to you. If you return to me, I want you fully aware that it is a decision you make without being influenced or coerced in any way.”

Siv nodded, heart suddenly aching with the prospect of having to leave so soon. “I wish… I wish there was more time. I don’t even know how to _process_ anything that’s happened in the last few days. I don’t know how it all…” he gestured helplessly in the air, “how it all _fits.”_

Adrestin tilted his head to one side and made a questioning, clicking noise in the back of his throat. “How what fits in with what, exactly?”

“Auuugh. I don’t even _know._ Like. The Force, I guess. I used to know where everything fit in the Force. I belonged squarely in BrightWatch and the Jedi Order and the Light Side, and that was that. And I knew where the Sith and the Dark Side belonged – far away from me, unless I was wreaking havoc with them. But now?” He shrugged and shook his head. “Now I’m not so sure. I never met a Sith like you before. I mean… You’re Dark Side, through and through. I can feel it in you even now. You’re all sharp edges and coiling shadow and a cold depth like an Arrakan sea.”

He took a deep breath, his voice wavering. “But you’re also kind to me. And you care about me. And you care about Erion, and Astele, and Dirae – and even Dom. Our weaknesses don’t disgust you. You’re protective of us if you think we’re being threatened, and I can’t even imagine the thought of you betraying the trust that any of us have put in you. And all of those are things I thought only the Light Side of the Force gave to people. I thought things like trust and protection and kindness and caring about people were pretty exclusive to our side, and the Sith either thought of them as not worth their time or weren’t even capable of knowing what they were.”

Adrestin leaned back again, nodding slowly. “I am not sure how or why you learned such a thing, although I am fairly certain I know _where_ you learned it. I will not make conjecture about whether it is a deliberate deception you have been taught or whether it is merely misconception, but… it is not true.” He took Siv’s hand in his and ran his thumb over his knuckles. “Light or Dark – Light _and_ Dark – the Force moves through all of us. There is precious little that is exclusive to Jedi or Sith, despite all of the fanfare and production that is made of our supposed differences. We just use different language and focus our emphasis on different approaches.”

Siv sighed. “That still doesn’t help me figure out where any of this fits. It’s _got_ to, somewhere. But I don’t know where _you_ fit, I don’t know where _I_ even fit anymore. Everything’s all just… muddled up inside.”

“And you are afraid that your confusion will become evident to the other Jedi when you return. And you are afraid that they might interpret doubt as disloyalty.”

Siv flopped forward to slump over the dejarik table, resting his forehead on the cold metal surface. “That’s the thing,” he mumbled, “doubt _is_ disloyalty.”

Adrestin frowned and reached a hand up to rub slow circles into Sivin’s back. “…I see. And being taught this, it unsettles you to feel such doubt, despite the fact that you still shine so brightly with the Light Side of the Force.”

Siv laughed without raising his head, his voice bitter and tired. “It won’t matter how kriffing shiny I am, Adrestin. Doubt clouds everything. I feel like I’m trying to see through a fog. And BrightWatch can spot something clouding the Light from parsecs away.”

“Mm.” Adrestin curled his clawed hands around Siv’s shoulders and gently pulled him upright again, drawing him in to a careful embrace. “Then allow me to be your scapegoat while you sort out your thoughts and feelings. If they seek a cause for your uncertainty, lay the blame on me.”

“…What?”

“Lay the blame on my cruelty, on twisting your words and thoughts and creed against you, on torture and deprivation and mockery. Treat your doubts as if they were an open wound, and the Jedi Order will seek to heal you instead of incriminate you for such doubts. Will they not?”

Siv pushed away from the hug and shook his head violently. “I won’t do that to you. You didn’t do anything wrong – I’m not going to –”

“Would they not believe such a thing?” Adrestin let him go. “Would they not welcome you back with open arms and seek to heal the hurt, the _evil,_ that a Sith had done to you?”

“…No, they would.” Siv stood up and began to pace the length of the common area. “But it would be a lie. You’re not – you’re not _evil,_ Adrestin, you’re…”

“I am Sith, Sivin. Sith is synonymous with evil among the adherents of the Jedi Order.”

Again Siv shook his head. “But you’re _not evil._ You’re my _friend.”_ He scrubbed his hands over his face and smoothed back his head tendrils. “Look, can we just… stop talking about this for a while? It’s too much deep thinking and my head is starting to hurt. And I’m hungry. We never did get lunch.”

Adrestin nodded, biting back a sigh. “Of course. I will drop it for now. But I am here whenever you wish to talk again. And if you wish to just have an ear, I do not even have to speak. I can simply listen.”

“I… thanks.” Siv took in a shaky breath. “No really. Thanks. And I might take you up on that, but later. We still have like… twenty-nine hours, or something. And I really am hungry.”

One corner of Adrestin’s mouth quirked up, and he got to his feet. “I believe that is one problem that I _can_ easily correct.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This didn't quite go in the direction I initially intended, but mostly it just ended up drawing everything out instead of a lot of action happening in one short chapter. This seems to be my newest pattern. Heh. Ooops.


	13. In Which There Occurs A Relative Calm Before The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time is running out for our Jedi and Sith friends to be together, but Graz's presence on board triggers several concerns for Sivin. As always, Adrestin does his best to address them.

It was either science or irony that made time seem to slow down in hyperspace, though Sivin found himself caring less and less what the cause actually was as the minutes wore down like hours. All he cared about was that it slowed down as much as possible. Stopping altogether was entirely out of the question, but even then, he couldn’t help but wish for the impossible.

Astele and Dom had emerged at the promise of Adrestin’s cooking, but once lunch had been eaten they both vanished back into Astele’s quarters with hardly a word. Even Astele’s trademark enthusiasm seemed dampened, and Siv could hardly blame her. The prospect of both Sith losing their recently-made Jedi friends, and vice versa, was laying heavily on everyone’s mind.

Sivin wanted to make the most of what little time he had left with Adrestin, but instead of seeking him out after they had eaten he had retreated back to Adrestin’s quarters and flopped down on the bed, flat on his back. He cast an arm over his eyes and just lay there for what seemed like forever. The thought of returning back to the Jedi Temple, of reporting what had happened over the last few days – and lying about it – and then being subjected to dozens of well-meaning inquiries into his mental stability by the Council and other Jedi… he honestly had no idea if he could take it. Not without letting something slip that would tip them off that something wasn’t quite air-tight about his story. Whatever his “story” would be.

He rolled over and punched a pillow. _“_ _Auuugh._ Why does this have to be so _hard.”_

But right as he spoke, a sudden _thump-crash_ from Adrestin’s closet made Siv jump to his feet in alarm, and he threw open the door with a hand ready on his lightsaber.

An air vent hung open near the top of the closet, and lying disheveled on the floor was Graz. He grinned sheepishly up at Siv and held up his hands in mock-surrender. “Easy, big guy. I didn’t know that duct would lead _here,_ I just – wait, where’s _here,_ anyway?” He peeked to the side of where Siv stood to glance around Adrestin’s room.

“How did you get out of the brig?” Siv extended a hand to Graz and helped the other man get to his feet.

Graz let his hand linger on Siv’s once he was upright again, and he turned his lopsided smile up at him. “Lock picks. Lots of them. Sometimes I get lucky when I’m in a Sith cell, and the door locks only shock me a couple of times on a little lower voltage than normal before I find one that works.” He ran his free hand through his hair tendrils in a half-hearted attempt to smooth them back down.

Both Siv’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa. I didn’t know the cells would do that – are you alright?”

Graz’s grin turned quizzical. “You weren’t kidding when you said you weren’t a prisoner. You really didn’t spend any time in the brig here, did you? _All_ Sith ships that have one have charges on the doors that’ll shock the kriffing daylights out of you if you’re not careful. Bars too, if they have them. Darth Belus’s ship is no exception.” He shrugged and patted Siv on the arm. “But naw, I’m fine. So why _aren’t_ you a prisoner?”

Siv’s face fell and he turned from Graz towards the door to Adrestin’s quarters. “I told you before, I don’t want to talk about it. Come on, you’re going back where you came from. There’s a reason Adres– _Lord Belus_ doesn’t want you wandering free on his ship, and I’d rather not be witness to whatever reason that is.”

Graz shook his head. _“’Adres-’?_ What, _Adrestin?_ You’re on a first name basis with a Dark Lord of the Sith?” His crooked grin turned predatory. “Wait. I think I know what’s going on here.”

Siv rolled his eyes. “And you’d be so _very_ wrong.”

“You’re kriffing him, aren’t you? Man, no wonder you’re worried about going back to the Jedi Order. That’s _got_ to be an awkward conversation.”

Siv heaved a sigh and pinched the skin between his eyes. “Yes, we’re on a first-name basis. No, we’re not kriffing. I’m not ‘kriffing’ anyone. Look. He saved my life, and I honestly don’t feel like giving you any sort of explanation beyond that.” He used the Force to push the honesty of his words into Graz’s head, annoyed that he even had to have this conversation in the first place.

Graz blinked. Frowned, then blinked again. “Oh. Well. It _looks_ bad, at any rate.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Siv leaned forward to grab Graz lightly by the arm and waved open the door. “You’re going back into the brig. And you’re going to wait patiently there for the next twenty-odd hours until we meet the other ship.”

Graz grumbled under his breath, but didn’t resist as Siv pulled him down the hall. “Fine, fine. What ship is it, anyway? Some Jedi cruiser?”

Siv stopped in his tracks, eyes widening. What had Zarinne said in the transmission? It had totally slipped his mind… The _Vastation._ “…Oh no.” He pivoted on his feet and made instead for the common area, dragging Graz with him. “Adrestin! We might have a problem!”

As they crossed the threshold to the common area, Adrestin looked up from where he was sitting on the floor, helping Erion tweak the casing around their new arm. “What’s wrong? I – ah. I see Graz has escaped his confines.”

“No that’s – aaugh, no. He’s not the problem.” He shoved Graz to the side, pointing at the bench around the dejarik table. “You, sit.” He turned back to Adrestin. “The _Vastation_ is the problem.”

Adrestin gave the bolt he was tightening one last turn before he patted Erion’s shoulder. “Finished. Now, what about the _Vastation?_ Is that not the ship we’re meeting?”

“Oh, we’re meeting it all right.” Siv dropped down to sit cross-legged across from Adrestin. “The _Vastation_ is not just a scout ship or an escort ship. It’s an assault frigate. There are over three hundred crew aboard, and I’m guessing at the very least over a dozen Jedi of the rank of Knight, if not Master.”

Erion’s rebreather hissed, and they shot both Adrestin and Siv a look of surprise. <They intend a fight?>

“Or they intend a massacre.” Adrestin leaned forward to grasp Siv by the shoulder. “Tell me what we might be able to expect, Siv. I need to know what they are capable of, yes, but better to know what they are _likely_ to do. We have less than twenty-six hours to plan for contingencies. Anything you have would be helpful.”

Siv shrugged helplessly. “I… I know the _Vastation_ ’s commander. Her name is Halde Digar. She’s a human from Corellia, favours Ataru, and has a deep-seated hatred for the Sith and the Dark Side. She will see trading a Sith for two Jedi as giving ground to the Sith, and likely she’s going to be _really_ pissed about it.” He took a deep breath. “She lost several comrades to the Sith when she was still a Padawan, and she took it _very_ personally. Despite the lip service she gives to the Order about focusing on her duty, she’s been trying to track down the Sith responsible for her friends’ deaths for years. She’ll call it justice, some of the others say it’s revenge.”

Adrestin shrugged. “Justice is just revenge recoloured in community tradition and placed on a larger scale. At any rate, knowing her inclinations is a good start.”

Erion nodded in agreement. <This is something to work with, at least. You know much about this commander of this frigate.>

Siv gave Eri a weak laugh. “I should hope so, I’m the one who put her there.”

Both Adrestin and Erion fixed him with stares and raised eyebrows, making Siv squirm. He waved his hands rapidly in front of him. “Hey now, you told me to tell you everything that might help – but yeah, I did put her there. Halde joined BrightWatch quite a few years ago, served under me for eight standard years before the Council thought it best to transfer her elsewhere.” He scratched the back of his neck, remembering the details. “And at about the same time, the _Vastation’s_ previous commander was under investigation for a serious breach of the Jedi Code. Knowing the _Vastation’s_ reputation as particularly, uh, enthusiastic when it came to skirmishing with Sith, I recommended her for the position. Strongly. My opinion holds a lot of weight in some areas. I guess.”

<You guess.> Erion muttered dryly, rolling their eyes. <If the Jedi had nobility or royalty as a rank, you would be their darling Prince. Even your enemies know this.>

“And I am guessing that is also why they are willing to go along with a prisoner exchange for you.” Adrestin tapped his chin as he mulled over the information Siv had just given them. “Do you think this commander would allow her hatred of the Sith to take over in this regard? If there is a chance she will shoot us out of the sky right when we come out of hyperspace, I refuse to risk it.”

Siv hesitated for just a second before shaking his head. “No, she wouldn’t do that. Even though Halde isn’t technically with us anymore, she’s still BrightWatch through and through. And if I have to be honest…” He awkwardly shifted where he sat, his face mottling in embarrassment. “…Her loyalty to me personally is probably just one step below the Jedi Council itself.”

“BrightWatch keeps its own.” Adrestin nodded and cracked a thin smile. “We can use that. All we need is for her to cooperate just long enough to get you, Domthus, and Graz aboard her ship without firing on us. Do you think your clout will garner us enough time for that?”

“Maybe. But she’s hotheaded enough to try shooting you down as soon as the transfer is complete, probably to the point of breaking her own seals on her blast doors if it meant breaching your hull and spacing you in the process.”

<That sounds as though it was something she has done before.> Erion crossed their arms and leaned back in their repulsor harness, eyes narrowed. <I do not like that we will be within the sights of such a Jedi.>

“She has, yeah.” Siv sighed and shook his head. “I won’t lie to you, this is some dangerous water to be swimming in. If you get her riled up, she’ll turn unpredictable.”

Adrestin leaned forward and pointed two scaly fingers at Siv. “Then if we cannot account for or control her emotional state, then let us restrict her resources. Forcing her to take a shuttle and meet planetside on Baras Keron itself while the _Vastation_ remains in orbit would eliminate the risk of a rather one-sided space battle. The _Archon Red_ has sufficiently advanced enough stealth technology to allow us to come out of hyperspace some distance from the planet itself, enough that we could plot an approach that would keep Baras Keron between us and their frigate while we landed undetected.”

Erion smirked behind their respirator, betrayed only by the crinkling up of the corners of their eyes. <Just like Arbruin Minor.>

Adrestin’s eyes glittered, and one side of his mouth quirked up. “Just like Arbruin Minor.” He turned back to Siv. “Do you think if we demanded that the exchange take place planetside, that she would acquiesce?”

“…Yeah, I think so. Zarinne will be aboard the _Vastation_ too, and I know that she’ll have a lot of say on how things go down. And _she_ would agree to it. Halde will yield to Zarinne even if she doesn’t really agree with it, unless it goes completely counter to the Order. Which… wouldn’t happen. So… I think it could work.”

“That will have to do.”

<In the meantime. I will ensure our weapons systems and shields are primed and in top working order. Just in case.> Eri raised their repulsor from the floor and nodded once at both Adrestin and Siv before slipping by on their way out of the common area.

Siv watched them go, then flicked his gaze over to Adrestin. “You know, I think they’re starting to like me.”

Adrestin’s half smile spread into a full one, and he radiated warmth in the Force. “In their own way. It is only a matter of time, your charm is rather inexorable.”

Siv grinned and shook his head. “If you say so. But at least now we have something of a plan. I’ll try to remember any other specifics about the _Vastation_ or her crew as we go.” He paused and frowned, glancing around the common area. “Hey, uh… Adrestin?”

“Mm?”

“Where’s Graz?”

 

* * * *

 

“I don’t think you should go back.”

Dom rolled his eyes at Astele before handing her a bit of wire. “I already _told_ you, I can’t stay. I’m a Jedi. I can’t just spend the rest of my life hanging out with a _Sith._ I have a duty.”

It was Astele’s turn to roll her eyes at Dom. “Oh right, right. Duty. Whatever. What’d that be, huh? Killing Sith?”

“BrightWatch has a focus on iconoclasm, not death. There’s a difference between what we do and what groups like the Knights of Gallar or Argent Legion do.”

“Right. Sure. Iconoclasts. Remind me never to tell you where my grandparents are buried.”

Dom heaved a sigh and dug around in the shell of the datapad he had been gutting for parts. “I wouldn’t go digging up your _grandparents,_ Astele.”

“No? And how do you know that the Sith Lord’s shrine you were after when we met wasn’t somebody’s grandma?” She slapped Dom’s hand away and pulled a piece of metal from inside the datapad. _“This_ one.”

Dom scowled and sat back, chewing on his lower lip. “What do you want me to say? That you have a point? I _know_ that, Astele. I do. But I can’t just…” He waved his hands helplessly in the air.

“Quit being a Jedi.” Astele stopped fiddling with the metal pieces in her hands and stared down Dom. “Can’t you? Can’t you just quit? It’s not like you’re happy there, or you wouldn’t be so upset about going back.”

“I can’t just quit something I’ve been my entire life, Astele.” Dom shook his head in resolute resignation, but her words sent a shiver up his spine anyway. “Besides –”

He paused to stare at Astele, watching her ears twitch and rotate to catch a subtle sound. He cocked his head in silent question at her, but she put a finger to her lips. She backed up slowly and rose to a crouch, eyeing just above her before suddenly jumping straight up with full Force to slam the palms of her hands against a panel on the ceiling. It fell with a crash, dumping a very startled Mikkian to the floor.

Graz scrambled to his feet as far away from Astele as he could, barely managing to sidestep all the pieces of metal and wiring that were strewn out over the floor of her quarters. “Hey now – wait a minute, Astele – we’re friends, right?”

She cocked her head to the side, mimicking Dom’s previous posture. “That depends on what you bring me. But you didn’t bring me anything this time.” Her eyes narrowed. “And you’re supposed to be in the brig.”

“Aha, yeah, about that. Look, Sivin and Lord Belus already know I’m out, so it’s not like you have to – _ow,_ Astele!”

She lurched forward to grab him by a single finger, and began dragging him towards the door. “I don’t want to hear it. You’re getting out of my room, and you’re getting your ass back to the brig.”

She tugged him down the corridor, ignoring his protests as she turned the corner to the common area. Spotting Siv and Adrestin on the floor, she jabbed with her thumb back at Graz as she pulled him along behind her. “Lose something?”

Both Adrestin and Siv smiled at her. Adrestin rose from where he was seated and extended a clawed hand. “We were just wondering where he went off to. Thank you, Astele. We will secure him. And this time he will _stay_ where he is secured.” His gaze turned hard and cold as he flicked his eyes over Graz.

Graz shuddered under his stare and flinched when Adrestin took his wrist in his hand. “Y-yes sir.”

Deed done, Astele turned on her heel and headed back the way she had come, grinning at Dom as he poked his head around the corner and waving him back to her quarters. “Go on, he’s fine. You can help me put that panel back up.”

They disappeared down the hall, and Adrestin turned his attention to Graz. “I believe you have earned yourself binders as well as a cell, little sneak-about.”

Graz flicked nervous eyes to Siv. “A – a little help here?”

Siv shrugged as he got to his feet. “Honestly, I don’t think I can help you. You’ve been breaking into the ductwork of the ship, and as far as I can tell, you could cause some serious damage doing that, eh?”

Adrestin was already marching Graz back in the direction of the brig, and Siv followed close behind. “Although, Adrestin – do you have to use shocks on the door? He could get hurt –”

“He _is_ going to get hurt if he tries anything again, period. This is a Sith reconnaissance ship, not a resort cruiser. I do not have the time, or the patience, or the energy to constantly babysit a thief who is an unrepentant repeat offender. Not when I have the threat of a Jedi assault frigate breathing down my neck, and not when I also have your safety and Domthus’s safety to worry about, not to mention Astele and Erion.” He keyed open the code for the brig and ducked inside, swiping a pair of stun cuffs off the wall as he entered. He pulled Graz’s arms behind him and snapped the cuffs in place before shoving him into one of the two cells – the one that had not been obviously tampered with earlier by Graz’s lock-picking efforts. Slapping a switch on the wall brought the audible hum of the electric grid crackling to life, and Adrestin crouched down to Graz’s eye level to glare at him through the bars. “You will wait here. Patiently. And you will behave yourself until we arrive at Baras Keron. One of us will come and check on you every three hours, and feed you if you’re hungry. If you break out of this cell again, I will not hesitate to kill you. Do you understand?”

Graz nodded mutely, eyes huge and round.

“Good.” Adrestin turned and stalked out of the brig, Siv trailing behind after he shot Graz an apologetic look.

Once they had returned to the hall, Siv tugged on Adrestin’s clothes to pull him to a stop. “Hold on a second.”

Adrestin turned to regard Siv, his expression just as gentle and open as Siv usually remembered. But Siv frowned and glanced back at the door to the brig. “Adrestin… Would you really kill him if he escaped again?”

Adrestin didn’t answer right away, his eyes following Siv’s glance to stare at the brig door instead. He opened his mouth to say something, but ended up just sighing instead. He ran a hand over his upper pair of eyes. “…Sivin… You understand and accept a great many things about me that I would not normally expect a Jedi to accept. But I do not expect you to accept this one.”

“You _would,_ wouldn’t you?”

Again Adrestin sighed, but he nodded slowly. “Yes, I would. I know what he has done in the past, and he might not be much of a threat in Dirae’s home, but loose within the confines of a ship? _My_ ship? He could cause a great deal of trouble and not all of it is simple inconvenience or the potential of property destruction. I do not treat a risk like that lightly. Not when I have people I care about deeply on board.”

Siv crossed his arms. “So the thought of just incapacitating him just… doesn’t occur to you? We could knock him out, sedate him, have one of us keep an eye on him every second. You don’t have to resort to –”

“Sivin.” Adrestin placed a hand lightly on one of his shoulders. “Such things have been attempted before. The only thing that will work is a serious threat. This is such a threat.”

“And it’s one you’d actually make good on. If he tested you.”

Again he nodded. “Yes.”

Siv shook his head, still glaring at the brig door. “I don’t like this, Adrestin.”

“I know. I do not ask you to agree with me on this. And I hope that he remains in that brig and that this remains simply a clash of ideals.” He squeezed Siv’s shoulder gently before running his hand down his arm to take his hand. “If you want to talk about this, we can talk about this. But I’d rather do so in my quarters than in the hallway.”

Sivin blew out a breath and shook his head. “No – you know, it’s… not worth it. I don’t – I don’t want to argue with you right before I have to leave.”

Adrestin raised a single scaly eyebrow. “Would we be arguing?”

Siv gave a short laugh and shrugged. “Wouldn’t we?”

“I will not push you, Sivin,” Adrestin said quietly as he gently pulled Siv closer to him and walked hand in hand beside him down the hall, “So if you do not wish to talk about this, then I will drop it. But I do want to spend as much time with you as possible, regardless.”

Siv flashed him a weak grin. “Heh. Yeah, me too.”

Adrestin led him back to his quarters and keyed open the door, ushering Siv inside and gesturing for him to sit on the bed. “Although there is one thing I do want to ask you before we change the subject.”

“Alright, shoot.”

Adrestin sat down next to Siv and gestured to his lightsaber. “Sith kill many Jedi, and Jedi kill many Sith. You do not deny this, and we ourselves are responsible for killing many of each others’ comrades-in-arms.”

Siv slowly nodded, his hand going to his lightsaber hilt. He traced the edges of the metal thoughtfully. “…Yeah. Hell, as far as we even know, you could have killed close friends of mine, and I could have killed close friends of yours.” He looked up abruptly at Adrestin. “What are you getting at?”

“I know it bothers you. But not enough to ask me directly about it. Yet the question of Graz merits the asking. Why?”

Siv turned his gaze to the floor. “Well… he’s… not one of us, right? He’s not _in_ this fight, not like the rest of us. He’s not Force sensitive. He’s just… caught up in the middle.”

“I would remind you that he is not an innocent party in this,” Adrestin said dryly. “Force sensitive or no, he is caught up in the middle because he keeps going right back in.”

Siv sighed and flopped onto his back, reaching over to grab one of the pillows to tuck behind his head. “Yeah, I get that. I just don’t like the idea of you being willing to kill someone who can’t even really fight back. Not like a Jedi or another Sith could.”

“I have been willing to kill more helpless people than Graz, Sivin. For much less.”

Siv threw his arm over his eyes and he heaved a sigh. “…Yeah. I kind of guessed that. I just… I just don’t like to think about it.”

Adrestin placed a hand on Sivin’s arm and gently removed it from his face so he could look him in the eyes. “Sivin. I do not apologize for being who and what I am. I am violent. I have killed many Jedi. I have killed many who are not Jedi. I have no qualms about eliminating anyone who stands in my way or becomes a threat, even if that threat is remote. That being said, I do not make it a habit to kill innocent bystanders or those not directly involved in putting those I love in potential danger.”

Siv nodded, but flinched. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

Adrestin gave him a small humorless smile. “The only way you could ever get on my ‘bad side’ would be if you attacked Erion or Astele, or someone else I loved. Yet even if you did, I would still care for you. We are _friends,_ Sivin. Admittedly, we have not known each other long. But I extended my hand in friendship to you because I saw someone worth fighting _for,_ instead of against. And I already care for you deeply. I do not take that lightly, nor give that up so easily. I am Sith, after all.”

“I… I know.” Siv curled up on his side and reached a hand for Adrestin’s own. “I can feel it all around you. The Dark. I just… I worry, is all.”

Adrestin squeezed his hand. “And what is it you worry about, in regards to me?”

“That you’ll…” Siv let out a weak laugh. “That you’ll fall. Damn, that sounds really weird once I say it out loud.”

Adrestin cracked a smile. “According to every thread of every tenet of your beliefs, Sivin, I have already fallen. A very long time ago.”

“I know, I know,” Siv sighed, picking at the scales on Adrestin’s palm. “I just… I worry that the Dark Side will just… take over, I guess? I can feel it all around you, especially whenever you’re talking to Jedi besides me and Dom. Or anyone else who's not a Sith.”

“That comes with the territory, Sivin. You can feel it all around me because I am permeated with the Force. As are you. We are just immersed to different depths. But if you are afraid of me suddenly being overcome with a malevolent power that would rob me of my senses and turn me against you for no reason, you are afraid for nothing. It doesn’t work that way.”

“No?” Siv sat up and flicked his gaze from one pair of Adrestin’s eyes to another, hand gripping Adrestin’s tight. “Then what about all the things I’ve heard about others? Other Sith, other Dark Lords?”

Adrestin turned Sivin’s hand over in his own to run his thumb over Siv’s palm. “Rumor and hyperbole, based on the condition of simply existing in the Force. Life is _hard,_ Siv. You know that. Often, even harder for many who are sensitive to the Force. If someone is unstable in their sensitivity, they are vulnerable to the fluctuations in the Force. Dark _and_ Light. You have seen it, I am sure. Plenty of Jedi Masters lose their minds, so to speak, even as plenty of Sith Lords do the same.” He sighed. “People like that… They are not evil, not fallen, not possessed. Not _weak,_ either. _Life is hard,_ Sivin. It affects us all differently. To survive at all takes a great deal of strength. But sometimes… it’s not enough.”

“I’m… familiar.” Siv leaned into Adrestin’s shoulder, eyes cast down to the floor. “The Order says that those who were chosen by the Force to wield its power should be able to handle it, though.”

Adrestin tilted his head to stare down at Siv. “Does the Jedi Order not have counselors?”

“What? No.” Siv frowned. “ Why would they? Once a youngling is chosen to be a Padawan, their Master is all the counselor they should ever need. If somehow they need more advice than that, they go directly to the Jedi Council.”

“I… see.” He curled an arm around Siv’s shoulders, pulling him just a little closer against him than usual. “That explains much.”

“Eh?”

“Don’t worry about it. My personal criticisms of the Jedi Order are probably not something you would wish to get an earful of.” Adrestin nudged Siv back until they were both curled up against the pillows piled in the corner. “Though if you do want to hear them, I would certainly concede.”

Siv settled back against Adrestin, making himself comfortable. “I’m not sure that would be a real good idea, this close to having to leave. Can we just… talk about something else?”

Adrestin nodded. “Of course. Tell me, Siv… do you remember anything about life before the Order took you in? About your life on the colony world?”

“I know I was real small, but remember plenty.” Siv broke out into a grin. “Good times. At least the first three years, before the famine.”

Adrestin returned his smile. “Would you tell me about them?”

 

* * * *

 

“Okay, hand me the second unit.”

Dom obediently placed the bundle of circuitry into Astele’s outstretched hand, though the rest of her was out of sight underneath the cockpit’s console. “You know, Lord Belus could kill us for messing with his ship.”

Astele slid out from underneath the console just enough that her ears and eyes showed. She scoffed. “Yeah, right. At most I’ll get a stern talking-to. But he’s been wanting to upgrade this system for _months.”_

“Yeah, well, I’m not you and I’m complicit in this too. Lord Belus could kill _me_ for messing with his ship.”

Astele rolled her eyes and gestured towards the third piece of circuitry still being fretted with in Dom’s hands. “Give me that. And no, he won’t. He likes you.” She popped back under the console, accompanied by the hum of her soldering iron.

Dom shook his head, though Astele couldn’t see it. “I really, _really_ doubt that.”

“How do you get that?” Her voice echoed weirdly from within the confines of the metal casing. “He’s been nothing but nice to you since you _got_ here.”

“Yeah but Astele, he’s a _Sith Lord._ He’s a _Darth Sith Lord,_ for stars’ sake.”

Her head popped out again and she reached up to point a finger at him. “Kriffing hell, Dom. Would you lay off with the end-of-the-universe melodramatics about being a Sith? It doesn’t mean he can’t like you. Now come on. Hand me the mini-hydrospanner. We have probably less than an hour before we’re gonna drop out of hyperspace, and I want to get this done quick.”

Dom shrugged as he glanced nervously back at the cockpit door. “Whatever you say. Where have they been, anyway?”

“Siv’s been with Lord Belus all night, and about two or three hours ago Master Eri went in to talk to them. That’s how we got to sneak up in here, right?”

“Right.” Dom sighed and handed her the tool she had asked for. “Are you sure he’s going to be happy about this?”

“Sure I’m sure. I mean. Once it’s _done.”_

Dom shook his head. “That’s… not very reassuring, Astele.”

“Whatever. Look, one more wire and we’re done anyway. There. See?” She crawled out from under the console, wiping her hands on her trousers.

Footsteps on the other side of the door made both Dom and Astele jump, but before they could scramble away the door slid open. Adrestin stared down at them with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow. “And what, exactly, are you done doing?”

Dom paled and ducked behind Astele, who shrugged and gave Adrestin a sheepish grin from where they sat on the floor. “Well you’d mentioned the navicomputer needed new memory banks and processor to keep up with all the systems we keep adding to it…”

“Which you installed last week.”

“Yeah, but,” Astele gestured to the console she had just recently crawled out of, “the cooling fans couldn’t keep up either. So I replaced them. And tweaked the refresh rate on the atmospheric repulsors while I was at it. I _know_ that’s been bugging you.”

Adrestin shook his head, offering her his hand. “Up off the floor. Thank you for the effort, Astele, but this really should have waited until later. We are about to –”

“Yeah, well, later I won’t have Dom to help me.” She pouted and got up without taking Adrestin’s hand.

“I suppose that is true.” Adrestin turned his focus to Dom, hand still outstretched. “She is certainly putting you to work while you are here. How about a little break before we drop out of hyperspace? Siv is waiting in the common area.”

Dom just stared up at him with huge white eyes.

Adrestin sighed and crouched down to meet Dom at eye level, still offering his hand. “Come on, it’s alright. I’m not angry with you. Let’s go to Siv, okay?”

Astele grunted from beside Adrestin, and she shoved by him to grab Dom by his arm. “Knock it off, Dom. Get your ass up.” She hauled him to his feet and dragged him past Adrestin, out of the cockpit and into the common area, grumbling the whole way. “Seriously, what is your deal? We’ve been over this like a thousand times. How old are you, anyway? You act like Lord Belus is some monster in your closet, jumping out to eat you. Grow up.” She released him when they reached the common area, where Siv and Eri were already seated at the dejarik table.

Siv looked up when they came in, and had to hide a smile over Astele’s words. He waved Dom over to him and patted him on his shoulder. “Still having trouble with Adrestin?”

Dom stared at the floor and shrugged. “I don’t – I don’t know how you do it.”

“Practice.” Siv grinned. “He won’t hurt you, you know.”

But before Dom could respond, Adrestin emerged from the cockpit, face grim and mouth drawn into a tight line. “We made good time. We’re already approaching Baras Keron.” He took a slow breath, his sunburst eyes meeting Sivin’s with a mixture of resignation and sadness. “I hope you’re ready. We drop out of hyperspace in two minutes.”


	14. In Which An Exchange Is Prepared For, Or At Least Anticipated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrestin brings the ship planetside, but almost before they even land trouble begins. Siv's mind can't stop running in circles, and apprehension runs high as time closes in for the prisoner exchange.

Once again, all the Jedi and Sith aboard the _Archon Red_ were clustered in the cockpit, watching the mottled blue of hyperspace coalesce into lines and then points of stars. They came out in what looked to be the middle of nowhere, and it wasn’t until Adrestin turned the ship around that they saw the dim light of Baras I and II, the stars that Baras Keron orbited. Far ahead, between them and the orbiting stars, was a tiny marble of a planet. The sensors on the console blinked red, using two dots on the display to indicate a pair of ships orbiting close to the edge of the planet’s atmosphere.

“We’re nearly an hour early, but it looks like our Jedi are already here. Eri, activate our cloaking shields. I dropped us out on the very edge of the whole star system, so unless they’re looking directly at this spot, they haven’t seen us. Let's get a good sweep so we know for sure what we’re looking at.”

Adrestin keyed the sensor sweep and watched the monitors, and both Siv and Astele leaned in beside him to get a good look too. As the scan did its work and gave them a better visual, Siv reached over Adrestin’s shoulder to tap the larger of the two ships on the display. “That’s the _Vastation._ The other is _BrightWatch VII.”_

As they watched, the one Siv had identified as _BrightWatch VII_ maneuvered under the _Vastation_ and disappeared into its docking bay. Adrestin raised an eyebrow. “Transferring your Jedi Zarinne and other members of BrightWatch to the _Vastation?”_

“That’s what I’m thinking, yeah. Although the ship is probably going to remain in their docking bay for the long haul. They won’t be taking any chances.” Siv leaned back and gestured at the planet ahead of them. “It’d be a good time to make our approach, though.”

“I agree.” With a glance over at Erion to confirm their cloaking was active, Adrestin eased the ship forward and took them in. He spiraled the ship around to the opposite side of the planet before bringing them down in the southern hemisphere, eyeing the landscape below for a suitable landing location.

It was a cool, arid world, scarred by deep winding canyons and peppered with dark conifer forest. Fantastic formations across the landscape had been carved by the slow forces of wind and water over the millennia, casting contorted shadows in the local early morning sunlight. Adrestin cruised at low altitude, scanning the terrain for a plateau flat enough to land, but close enough to suitable cover that he might conceal the ship.

Beside him, Dom nudged Siv and pointed at a distant monolith far to portside. “What about there?” he whispered, trying not to interrupt Adrestin’s concentration.

But Adrestin leaned back to regard him. “Where, now?”

Dom’s eyes grew huge and round, but he pointed back and to the far left . “B-back there.”

“Mm.” Adrestin turned the ship around and scanned the landscape again. “Show me, Domthus?”

Siv gave Dom a little pat on the shoulder and pushed him forward to stand next to where Adrestin sat in the pilot’s seat. “Show him, Dom.”

Dom nodded mutely, pointing a shaky finger back at the far-off formation. “It – it looked like there might have been an overhang under that monolith. Big enough for the ship. I’m – I’m not sure though.”

Adrestin nodded. “It certainly appears promising. Let’s take a look.” He took the ship in closer, circling around and skirting low over the trees. “Well, looks like you have found us the perfect spot. The erosion has carved a convenient little alcove at the base, and the trees surrounding it are tall enough to obscure overland investigation. Thank you, Domthus. You have sharp eyes.”

The base of Dom’s horns turned a deeper shade of purple at the compliment, and he managed to stutter a “t-thank you” before he made a hasty retreat back behind Sivin’s chair.

Adrestin took the ship down, settling it neatly beneath the overhang and tucked away behind a line of trees. “We can leave the ship here, and meet your Jedi friends in that clearing about a kilometer south. Eri, would you mind fetching Graz? Once we have him gathered I’ll contact the _Vastation_ and inform them we are meeting planetside.”

Erion gave a single nod. <One moment.> They floated past the threshold and out of the cockpit.

Adrestin got up from the pilot’s seat and turned to Sivin and the others, gesturing at the way Erion had just gone. “To the common area, then?”

They all filed out of the cockpit one by one, both Jedi sliding into the seats beside the dejarik table. Astele climbed up on the table and sat cross-legged near Dom. She grinned at him and was about to make a snarky remark about his perennial fear of Adrestin when Erion came rushing back into the common area.

<He’s gone.>

Adrestin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, gone?”

<He is not in his cell. He is not in the brig. He is _gone. > _Erion’s fists clenched and unclenched as they spoke, their respirator clicking and hissing along with their agitation.

The Dark Side came boiling up around Adrestin, thrashing in waves and coursing through every cord of muscle and bone. His face twisted into a snarl, and he jabbed a finger at Erion. _“Find him!”_

As Erion sped away, Adrestin whirled on his heel and grabbed the console interface fixed to the back wall, punching in a scan for life forms on the ship. “If he is in the duct work again, so _help_ me –”

Even from where Siv was sitting, he could see that the scan came up with only five life signs aboard. He carefully got to his feet and edged closer to Adrestin, painfully aware of the cold, sharp edges of Dark Side power that curled about his friend. “Could he have already gotten off the ship?”

“More than likely.” Adrestin hissed the words, and even as he spoke he was moving towards the boarding ramp. He snatched a pair of macrobinoculars off the wall as he went. “Let’s find out.”

Siv followed after Adrestin as he extended the boarding ramp and made his way quickly down to the ground. Astele and Dom came hesitantly after them, gripping each other’s hands and both more worried about Adrestin’s mood than Graz’s escape.

Adrestin paused at the base of the ramp, bringing the binocs to his upper pair of eyes to scan from the top of the hill to the horizon. “I knew I should not have allowed him on my ship… _there.”_ He dropped the binocs into Siv’s hands and stretched out a hand toward the fleeing man.

The almost-audible rumble of Dark Side power coalescing into kinetic energy made Sivin flinch, and as he watched he saw the distant form of Graz stumble and come to a sudden halt. Graz's hands went to his throat as he clutched at the phantom grip tightening over his windpipe, and his whole form rose slowly into the air as he thrashed against Adrestin's hold.

But Siv lurched forward to grab Adrestin by the arm. “Wait – _wait!_ Hold on a minute.” Adrestin tried to shake him off, but Siv held firm. _“Please,_ Adrestin – wait. Hear me out.”

The snarl hadn’t left Adrestin’s face, but he let out a slow breath and turned to face his friend. “What is it, Sivin.”

“Don’t kill him, _please._ He’s already on a neutral world, he’s no longer in Sith space. Can’t that be enough?”

Adrestin's arm fell to his side and as Siv watched, Graz's distant form dropped to the ground in a heap. In mere seconds he had struggled to his feet again, and made once more for the next hill. Siv looked from Adrestin to the horizon and back again, and he held tightly to his friend's arm. “I know you don't want to let him go, but please. If you let him go, you don't have to tolerate being around him again. Please let this be enough.”

Adrestin looked past Siv to watch the dwindling form of Graz disappearing over an already-distant ridge. “…It appears it will have to be, this time.”

Siv released a tentative breath in relief and let go of Adrestin's arm. “Thank you.”

“Mm.” The tendrils of Dark Side power still curled around him, but the intensity eased a fraction as Adrestin refocused his gaze back onto Sivin. He was about to say something when Erion emerged from the ship and came up behind them, shaking their head. <Whether that nuisance is gone or no, we still have to prepare for the Jedi’s arrival.>

“…You are right, of course.” Adrestin sighed and trudged back to the ship.

Siv fell in by his side and took his hand as they walked. “Maybe it’s a good idea that Graz didn’t end up sticking around. If it got out that he was related to a Sith Lord, things could get bad for Dirae.” He followed Adrestin into the ship, and unclipped his lightsaber as he went. He handed it to Adrestin once they were inside. “Or he could even tip off the Order that I’m in good accord with a few Sith. That’s… kind of a conversation I don’t want to have.”

Adrestin took the proffered lightsaber and clipped it to his belt. “Neither one would truly be a threat. Graz is well-known to your Jedi Order, Sivin. If he had been turned over to your friends, once BrightWatch realized who they had they would notify those who have experience dealing with him. He is no bargaining chip, and they know it. They also know he is filthy with lies, and I doubt anyone in any position of authority would take his words seriously.” He sighed. “But it doesn’t matter now, anyway. Graz is gone, and he’ll probably be back poking around in Sith space before the suns rise on another local day.”

Siv raised an eyebrow. “Wow. He doesn’t waste time, does he?”

“He certainly does not,” Adrestin muttered as he dug out the same binders he had used before on Siv and handed them to him. “I should have killed him when I had the chance.”

Siv flinched at Adrestin’s words as he turned the binders over in his hands, but didn’t say anything.

Adrestin leaned forward to take Siv’s hands in his. “I know this bothers you. I wish I had time to explain Graz so that you would understand, if not accept. Just because he is not Force sensitive does not mean he is powerless. He is _not_ an innocent, not in any sense of the word. But we have run out of time, and I need to contact the _Vastation.”_

Siv nodded. “…Maybe the next time we can meet up, you’ll explain it to me?” He gave Adrestin a weak smile.

Adrestin's eyes softened, and he returned the smile. “Of course.” He pulled him into a fierce but gentle hug, and he squeezed just a little tighter when Siv returned the embrace. He kissed the top of Siv’s head and let him go, digging around in one of the pouches strapped to his belt. “I have something that should… ah, here it is.” He handed Siv a short communication cylinder. “It is of similar make to the one I gave Zarinne. It will contact me and only me, and is thoroughly encrypted. Whenever you are ready, I will be there.”

Siv took it delicately and tucked it into his robes close to his chest. “Thank you.”

“I believe it is time we contact your Jedi frigate.” He offered Siv his arm, and they ducked into the cockpit together.

Siv sat down in the copilot’s chair next to Adrestin and took in a slow breath. He held up the binders he still had in his hands. “Should you put these on me?”

Adrestin shook his head. “I’ll use only audio for the transmission, that way you can remain present without them knowing. Are you ready?”

Siv nodded, and Adrestin gave him a long look before reaching forward to flick the switch that activated the Jedi’s frequency. _“Archon Red_ to the _Vastation.”_

The transmission flickered with static for a moment before a clear voice could be heard. “Acknowledged, _Archon Red._ This is the _Vastation,”_ said the Jedi, her tone clipped and terse, “and you are late. Explain.”

“Negative, _Vastation.”_ Adrestin said evenly into the comm. “We arrived precisely on time. We are currently planetside. If you believe I am stupid enough to meet a Jedi capital ship without cover or reinforcements, you do not deserve your reputation. You will meet us on planet. The _Vastation_ will lock its orbit to its current location over the northern hemisphere, and you will send over a shuttle to make the exchange in the southern. I am sending you coordinates now.”

Static hissed and clicked over the comm, but the Jedi’s scoff was still distinct. “I do not take orders from _Sith._ You will –”

More muffled sounds came from the comm, but this time they were because someone had obviously placed their hand over the unit to mute it. Adrestin took that moment to punch in the coordinates of the clearing about a kilometer distant from where they had hidden the ship. While he did so, indistinct voices could be heard over the comm, both rising in volume if not clarity, until suddenly the frequency became clear again. _“Archon Red –_ we will meet you planetside in thirty minutes at the coordinates provided. Do not be _late_ this time. _Vastation_ out.”

The comm went silent, and Adrestin turned to Siv with an eyebrow raised. “I take it that was your Commander Halde Digar. She is certainly… efficient, if nothing else.”

Siv gave him a faint smile. “You don’t have to be polite. _She_ certainly isn't going to be. This is going to be a nightmare.”

“I suppose we shall see soon.” Adrestin focused all four eyes on Siv's face and frowned. “Are you doing alright? You can still back out of this.”

Siv shook his head. “I can't. I have to go back, you know that. And you already promised Dirae you'd bring her apprentice back to her.”

One corner of Adrestin's mouth turned up. “I could very easily only go halfway through the exchange. Rescue Gallus, disable their ship, and whisk you away in my evil clutches before the _Vastation_ could respond.”

Siv's eyes widened for a brief moment before he chuckled. “And don't think I don't believe it. I know you could. I just... I _have to_ go back. If I don't... I don't even know. I couldn't still call myself a Jedi if I didn't return.” The sinking feeling of dread came back full force, and Siv swallowed hard. _I don't even know if I can call myself a Jedi even if I_ _ **do**_ _return. What kind of Jedi gets attached, and to a Sith, of all people?_ He sighed and shook his head again. 

Adrestin still fixed his concerned gaze on him, but Siv tried to ignore it. He rose from his seat and made for the cockpit's threshold. “We should get going, eh?”

“Mm.” Adrestin got up and followed him out of the cockpit, but reached out and grabbed Siv's hand in the short walkway that led to the common area. “Sivin.”

Siv turned a quizzical look back at him. “Yeah, what's up?”

Wordlessly, Adrestin pulled Siv back to him and wrapped his arms around him in a gentle embrace. He rested his chin on the top of Siv's head, and his low-frequency humming began to send vibrations through Siv's whole body.

Siv hesitated for a moment before returning the hug. He buried his face in Adrestin's chest and let out a shaky sigh. “... I don't want to go,” he muttered, his voice muffled against his friend's skin. “But I have to. The Jedi Order is my life. 'We take what we are given.'”

Adrestin closed his eyes against the rarely heard Jedi saying, and gently squeezed Siv a little tighter. “Yes, we can only make do with what we are given in life. But that does not mean we must _accept_ everything we are given. And some things, only time will tell whether we should accept them or not. Take your time, Sivin, before you contact me again. You have a lot to think about, and you may find that time away from me clarifies your thinking.”

Siv smiled weakly against Adrestin's chest. “ _Stars,_ I hope so. Clarity is the one thing I desperately need right now.”

Adrestin pulled back just enough so that he could look Siv in the eye. “And might I suggest, that you may also find that spending some time away from the Jedi Order as well could clarify your thinking. You might need a little time by yourself to figure this out. To figure yourself out.” 

Siv dropped his eyes. “That's... not entirely my decision to make, Adrestin. But I'll think about it.” He shrugged. “Who knows, they might let me have a little resh and resh. Either way, we should go.” 

“Mm.” Adrestin gave him one last squeeze before Siv pulled away and took his hand to lead him back outside the ship.

Erion, Astele, and Dom were all waiting for them outside, Astele already with Dom's lightsaber at her hip and twirling a pair of stun cuffs around one finger. She jumped up from where she was sprawled on the ground when Adrestin and Siv emerged. “We ready to go?”

“Indeed.” Adrestin gestured to Siv. “I already have your blade, but if you could hand me those binders?” He gestured to the cuffs Siv had clipped to his belt earlier. “I do not want to risk that they might be watching the area around the meeting point like a hungry hawkbat. It would be suspicious if we did not have you restrained on our approach.”

“Yeah, I agree.” Siv handed him the binders and crossed his hands behind his back. “You too, Dom.”

Dom sighed and copied Siv's movements, and Astele slapped her binders on him. “Hey don't worry. We've been through this song and dance already, huh?” She winked at him and grinned. Dom rolled his eyes but also quirked a smile. “Yeah yeah, whatever you say.”

Erion glided past the rest of the group. <I will play vanguard and lead the way.>

The rest followed behind, Adrestin with an arm curled around Siv and Astele bringing up the rear with Dom in tow. As they began their trek across the landscape, she trailed a little bit behind and leaned up to whisper in Dom's ear. “Hey, is Siv alright? His aura is going crazy in the Force right now.”

“Huh?” Dom focused his attention on Sivin ahead of him, but slowly shrugged. “I don't see anything, Astele. I mean, he's a little closed off most of the time, but that's kind of normal for Sivin.”

She gave him a flat stare. “You're kidding me, right? He's kind of been all over the place ever since I first _saw_ him.”

Dom frowned. “What are you talking about? I mean, I know he has some moments, but Sivin is practically steady as a rock. Sure, he flickers a little weird in the Force every now and again, but _everybody_ does that from time to time.”

“That's not what I've seen. You sure we're looking at the same guy?”

Dom shrugged. “Of course we are, unless Sith have special observation powers that Jedi don't have or something.”

“Huh. Weird.”

“Yeah.”

Astele cocked her head up at Dom. “You're all over the place too, you know. You got a _lot_ of colours going through you.”

Dom flashed her a weak and almost apologetic smile. “Heh, yeah I know. It's because... well, I'm new. It's not been very long since I gained Knighthood, I still have a lot to learn. That should take care of itself in time.”

Astele's eyes widened in horror. “Wait, why? What will happen to you? Are you sick?”

“What? No – that's just what happens.” He shrugged again. “As you gain maturity and experience, you sort of... smooth out. You get brighter, I guess.”

“And your colours fade.”

“Mhm. It's just part of growing in the Force.”

Astele's ears flattened. “Right. Sure. If you say so.”

They fell into silence as they walked, Astele stealing glances up at Dom that grew more and more concerned as they made their way through the sparse forest.

Up ahead of them, Siv and Adrestin were both quiet and lost in their own thoughts, though internally Siv was screaming at himself.

He couldn't shake this feeling of dread. He couldn't stop himself from feeling worried and sad, and scared, and filled with regret over leaving Adrestin. He couldn't stop _feeling,_ period. He knew he had already failed miserably, that he'd gotten attached, that he had ignored the Jedi Code and abandoned his better judgment – hell, he had abandoned judgment entirely at this point. He might as well have been wading at night through murky water in a world of fog, for all the clarity he felt. And it wasn't just about Adrestin, either. Ever since he had lost everyone but Dom on their last mission, he had been overwhelmed with doubts and fears. Grief had taken him and he had allowed himself to feel it. Even at this very moment he was allowing himself to feel such fear over returning to _his own people_ that his hands were shaking and he could practically feel his own heart pounding its way out of his chest. Ever since that mission... No. Ever since he had met _Adrestin,_ he had never been able to think clearly.

He stole a quick glance up at his friend. The Dark Side corruption had taken eyes that should naturally have been the violet of a dusky sky, and now burned with the fire of four suns. He could sense the sharp edges and cold depth that was so ubiquitous to those so deeply lost to the Dark Side they could claim the title of Darth. He could not deny there was also the warmth and tenderness he had shown Siv these past few days – had it really been just days? It felt like an eternity – but Siv could not help but remember the way Adrestin treated Zarinne. Or spoke to Halde. Or nearly killed Graz. He shook his head violently, but he knew it wouldn't clear his thoughts or his apprehension away.

Adrestin curled his arm a little tighter around Siv as they walked, and turned four concerned eyes down at his friend. “Are you alright?”

Siv shook his head and let out a short laugh. “Honestly? Not really. But... I will be. I'm sure. Like you keep saying, time will tell, eh?”

Adrestin frowned and returned his gaze to the brush ahead. “Yes. But you still have a choice in this, Sivin. You always have –”

“No, I don't. I already told you. I _have to_ _go back to the Order._ I can't just turn my back on everything I was raised to do and be.”

Adrestin squeezed his shoulder gently. “I never asked you to do so. And I never will.”

“I know, I know. I didn't mean it that way. I just... I have a lot rolling around in my head right now.” Sivin sighed and shook his head, the dread in the pit of his stomach jumping up to catch in his throat. “But it doesn't matter.” He inclined his head to the metallic angles of _BrightWatch VII_ , looming up over the scrubby trees and brush just ahead. “There's no more time. We're already here.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler that doesn't actually lead to anything important: Astele's aura-reading skills are some crazy high-level shit, and she doesn't even know. 
> 
> I can't put it off any longer though. Next chapter is :(. I'm sad.


	15. In Which An Exchange Is Made, And Things Do Not Go As Planned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sith and the Jedi finally make their prisoner exchange, but things don't end up going quite according to plan.

Six Jedi were standing just outside the boarding ramp of BrightWatch VII, and all six came to attention when Siv, Adrestin, and the others came into view. Zarinne pushed to the front, accompanied by a scowling human Jedi whose hand was already gripping her lightsaber. Zarinne held out a tentacle to stay her, and stepped forward. “I see you have held up your end of this bargain, Sith. And so have we. Halde, would you bring out the prisoner?”

The human Jedi beside her nodded sharply before throwing a venomous look at Adrestin. She gave the same look to Zarinne briefly before turning on her heels and disappearing up the boarding ramp to their ship.

Adrestin pushed Siv forward, but kept a grip on the binders holding Siv's hands behind his back. “I keep my word, Jedi. It remains to be seen if the same can be said for you.”

Zarinne's face tentacles flattened back against her head. “Don't insult me. A Jedi's word is better than any Sith's could ever be. Are you doing alright, Sivin?”

He flashed her a tentative smile. “As good as I can be, given the circumstances.”

As he spoke Halde returned, and with two more Jedi following behind her. They hauled a skinny Rodian between them, half-conscious and glassy-eyed. Halde gestured over to Adrestin. “Release our comrades, Sith. Now.”

Adrestin's lip curled. “How refreshing to see the Jedi remember how promises work.” He thrust Siv in front of him, lightly patting his back. “Go on, Master Jedi.”

Beside them, Astele had also released her hold on Dom, and both Jedi slowly made their way towards their old comrades. Zarinne stepped up as they neared and pried their binders off of their wrists. The look of relief on her face was unmistakeable. “It's good to have you back, Sivin,” she whispered.

But Siv had no opportunity to reply. Halde had turned to watch Siv and Dom's safe return, but as soon as they had been freed she grabbed the Sith apprentice still in her custody up by his arm. She yanked him forward, practically throwing him at the Sith. “Take your tainted, flyblown Apprentice and get the hell out of my sight.”

Adrestin jumped forward to catch Gallus as he stumbled. “Then we shall take our leave. I do not believe I can stomach the sight of so many Jedi all in one place.”

But Zarinne stepped up to stand beside both Siv and Halde. “Not before you return their lightsabers as well.”

A sneer crossed Adrestin's face. “Lightsabers were never part of the negotiation, Jedi. I think I'll keep this as a little memento. A token, for all the trouble I've gone through to return your commander to you all in one piece.” He patted Siv's blade at his side.

“You vile –” Halde shot a hand out and used the Force to jerk the lightsaber off of Adrestin's belt and pull it towards her. But it didn't get very far before Adrestin snatched it right out of the air.

“Nice try.”

Erion had been standing at attention off to the side, but now they flew between Jedi and Sith, their own lightsaber drawn and ignited in a spike of golden yellow light. They glowered at Halde, voice dripping with contempt. <Do not play with blades unless you are prepared to use them.>

“We know how to use them, Sith.” Zarinne stretched out a tentacle this time, only she directed the Force at Astele. Both Dom and Astele's lightsabers were suddenly freed from her belt, and they flew into Zarinne's outstretched limb. She tossed them to Dom, who barely managed to catch them.

“But – wait, Zarinne, only one of these is mine!”

“Doesn't matter, Dom. Let's show these Sith how to play with a blade.” She drew her own lightsaber from her side and ignited it.

Dom just stood there gawking for a moment, watching the stand-off. The rest of the Jedi had either already ignited their sabers or had them drawn and ready, with the exception of Siv since his blade was still in the hands of the Sith. Neither side had made a move to attack, but the tension was so thick in the air Dom could practically breathe it. He sighed and shook his head. “I can only barely use Jar'Kai anyway. Two blades won't help, trust me.” He gingerly stepped forward to hand Astele's lightsaber back to her.

“Domthus, what are you _doing?”_ Halde's voice was practically a snarl. “Don't _arm_ her, _kill her!”_ She lunged forward to engage Erion, their blades crackling and snapping on contact.

Erion pressed against the attack, returning blow for blow. They glanced back to Astele. <Light your blade, Apprentice. Lord Belus must attend to Gallus.>

But Astele just looked from Erion to Adrestin and back to Dom. She scowled. “This is stupid. We didn't come here to fight.”

Two of the other Jedi approached her, their own blades already lit and crackling with blue-white energy. One of them sneered. “But fight you will, Sith. Or just simply die.”

“Wait a minute! Come on!” Dom slipped between the approaching Jedi and Astele. “We finished the exchange, why are we even still here? Can't we just get out of here?”

“Don't expose your back to a Sith, Domthus,” one of the Jedi snorted, “she'll take that opening and kill you in a heartbeat.”

The other Jedi let out a short laugh. “And yet she hesitates! What's wrong, Sith? Afraid of being outnumbered? Show us what you're made of.”

Astele bared her teeth and flattened her ears to the back of her head. She readied her lightsaber in front of her, but didn't ignite it. “I'm not taking your bait, Jedi.”

A wave of Dark Side power washed over everyone on the ground, leaving a cold, clammy feeling in the pit of each stomach. All eyes turned to Adrestin, who was kneeling to hold Gallus's lolling body upright. His four eyes rested on each Jedi in succession, the scowl on his face growing in menace every second. “Enough of this. We are finished here.”

Halde's sharp laughter rang through the air, but there was a tremor to her tone. “We are finished when _we_ say we are finished, Sith –”

Siv's voice rose above hers, a hint of anger colouring his words. “Unless someone would deign to enlighten me otherwise, BrightWatch has no business engaging Sith in _battle_ on what I've been led to believe was a _recovery_ mission. _You_ may be equipped for this, but _I_ am _not._ We are leaving.”

The Jedi halted their advance on Astele, and even Halde flinched and backed off from Erion. Both Siv and Adrestin exchanged a brief look before Adrestin made a curt nod at the group of Jedi. “We have better things to do with our time than educate trigger-happy Jedi on the dangers of engaging Sith face-to-face.” He bent to scoop Gallus up in his arms, and took a step back in the direction they had come from. He threw a hard stare at both Erion and Astele. “We leave. _Now.”_

Erion lowered their blade, but did not extinguish it. They motioned for Astele to follow, and they floated slowly backwards to join Adrestin. Astele threw one last glance at Dom before turning to follow her master, but one of the Jedi that had advanced earlier called out to her. “Leaving so soon? I didn't know you could be cowed so easily. I thought the Sith were warriors!”

Astele bristled at their words, but didn't turn around. She kept walking, but they didn't let it go. The other Jedi spoke up. “I guess this tiny little girl isn't really a Sith, anyway. She's barely out of diapers. I guess it's for the best, I might actually have felt bad about slaughtering a _child.”_

Astele stopped and turned around, face red and eyes blazing. But before she could open her mouth to retort, Dom stepped up once again to stand between the Jedi and Astele. “I've already seen her fight, and she's _good._ And believe me, she's no child. Just... Leave her alone.”

All the Jedi grew suddenly quiet, and Siv shook his head vehemently. “Dom. No.”

But Dom wasn't even looking in his direction. “She hasn't even drawn a saber yet. So leave her _alone_. She was _nice_ to me while we were aboard the Sith's ship – they've _all_ been nice to us. Neither one of us got hurt while we were there, not even once. They're _good people._ Nobody's done anything to anybody, so can we all just... go home now? Can't we just leave?”

Both Zarinne and Halde had riveted their gaze on Dom, faces stony and eyes hard. Zarinne shook her head slowly. “Tell me I didn't just hear what I think I heard.”

Halde's eyes narrowed. “No, you heard it. Tell me, Domthus, when did you start sympathizing with the _enemy?”_

Dom blinked, confused. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Don't you _dare_ ask me what I'm talking about when I just heard you _defend a Sith._ They got to you, didn't they? Of course they did.”

Zarinne nodded in agreement with Halde. “First you shield a Sith from a Jedi, then you _arm_ her, and now you are defending her _character?_ Domthus, what did they do to you? What kind of brainwashing have you been through?”

Dom's mouth fell open. “What? None! They didn't do anything to –”

“Obviously they did. They got to you.” Halde's snarl deepened. “BrightWatch had no business bringing new Knights out into the field this deep. Something like this was practically begging to happen. Once a Sith sinks their teeth into a Jedi, there's no going back.” Halde turned to Zarinne and Siv, eyebrows raised. “Isn't that right?”

Zarinne shook her head, sighing. “It's regrettable, but true.”

“Wait, what's going on?” Dom took a step towards Siv and the others, but the Jedi nearest him backed away.

Zarinne gestured for the other Jedi to retreat back to the ship. “Best to leave him here, we can't do anything for him. Come on Siv, we'll get you settled aboard and check you for injuries.”

Dom's eyes grew huge and round. “What are you talking about? What's going on? Sivin?” He glanced from Siv to Zarinne and back again.

Siv squeezed his eyes shut, his heart thudding madly in his chest. He shook his head. “I'm... I'm sorry, kiddo. You can't say things like that and expect BrightWatch to take you back.” He took a step back, away from Dom.

“ _Siv!_ You can't be serious! You were there too! You _know! Tell them!”_ Dom ran up to him, but Sivin held a hand out between them, keeping Dom back with the Force.

“I don't – I don't know what you're talking about. I'm _sorry,_ Dom. I can't – I can't do this. I _have to_ go back.” He threw an anguished look at both Dom and Adrestin, and without another word he turned and boarded the ship.

The other Jedi followed him, Halde waiting until the last of her comrades had gone up the ramp before she followed suit. But before she disappeared from sight, she turned and pointed a finger squarely at Dom.

“No true member of BrightWatch would _ever_ call Sith _good people,_ Domthus. I will ensure that you're considered dead to the Order for this. Force knows you're already a dead Jedi to me.” She ducked into the ship before Dom could respond, and the rumble of the engines powering up made him back away from the landing site.

Tears in his eyes, Dom stared up at the ship as it prepared its launching cycle. He would have stayed there to watch it take off and rise into space, but a hand suddenly gripped his shoulder, pulling him back. <No helping it, Jedi. Come. Quickly.>

Astele came up beside him as well and took his hand. “Come on, Dom. Let's go. We have to hurry, as soon as that ship is high enough they might try to fire on us.” She dragged him along as Erion pushed him from behind, and they followed hard on Adrestin's heels as he carried Gallus. They ran back to the sparse cover of the trees, and darted from grove to grove to keep their exposure to a minimum. But the Jedi ship did not pursue, and Adrestin could only imagine it was somehow Sivin's doing. They reached the _Archon Red_ in record time, and within minutes their own ship was powered up. Adrestin did not immediately make for space but instead kept low in the atmosphere, making sensor sweeps of the open space above them until he caught the signals of the Jedi ships. He watched his monitor, waiting until both _BrightWatch VII_ and the _Vastation_ made for hyperspace before taking his own ship out and setting a course. Just as he was setting the navicomputer, Erion slipped into the cockpit.

<Gallus is settled. He had been pumped full of drugs, but I have flushed his system.> They maneuvered their repulsor harness to settle into the copilot's chair. <He should recover quickly. He is resting now.>

“Good to hear. How is Domthus doing?”

Erion snorted. <I do not know. Astele is monitoring him.>

“Ah, I see. Good. She has a rapport with him, if anyone can ease his shock of being left behind, it will be her. I suppose in time he will adjust.”

Erion's perpetual scowl deepened behind their rebreather. <You are sounding as though you intend to keep him.>

Adrestin raised an eyebrow. “Should I not? He has been under my protection and my responsibility ever since we recovered the Jedi at the shrine. I am not about to rescind on that now. Not when he has nowhere else to go.” He rose and ducked into the walkway to make his way back to the common area.

Eri followed, but halted at the threshold. <I told you before, Belus. He is a _Jedi,_ not a _pet._ This will backfire on you. He will grow so homesick for his precious Temple life, that he will turn on you if the Order ever gives him an opportunity to return. >

Both Astele and Dom looked up from where they were seated at the dejarik table, and Astele's arm curled a little tighter around Dom's shoulders when they heard Erion's words. Dom's swollen, red-rimmed eyes grew more worried, though he refused to look Adrestin in the eye. But Adrestin just sighed and shook his head, his gaze on the two in front of him instead of on Erion. “Whether that happens or not, time will tell. For now, my most pressing concerns are Gallus's health and Domthus's distress.”

He came up beside where Dom sat and crouched down to meet him at eye level. “Do you need anything, Domthus?”

The little Jedi's mouth contracted into a thin line and he shook his head, trying to contain a hiccough. He stared down at the table, grip tight on Astele's free hand.

Astele blew out a sigh. “Why would Siv do that, Lord Belus? He totally just threw Dom to the bloodwolves. He didn't even try. Dom can't figure it out, and neither can I.”

Adrestin tilted his head to try and catch Dom's eye. “I suspect this has to do with something deep-seated in Sivin's past, that has caused him to do what he did. He is acutely aware of his precarious place within the Jedi Order, and the thing he fears the most is losing his home among them. It is not you, Domthus. You did nothing wrong. I would reserve judgment until you can discover what truly is going on within Siv's mind. And I am sure an opportunity will happen, sometime in the future, when you can ask him about it.” He rose and gently patted Dom on his shoulder. “And in the meantime, I will not allow you to come to any harm. You are safe with me. And as for _your_ concern, Eri –”

But Erion was no longer hovering over the threshold. Adrestin frowned and took a step towards the cockpit, but just then Erion emerged. Their face was stony and carefully blank. <I have notified the Tribunal of the Jedi's situation. And of his presence aboard your ship.>

The Dark Side around Adrestin thickened and boiled, and all four of his eyes narrowed into glowing slits. “And why would you do that, Erion?” His voice was deadly quiet.

Eri's eyes flicked to Dom's trembling form curled up next to Astele, and then back up at Adrestin. <I do not wish to see you come to harm by getting even further involved with a Jedi. He could be _dangerous_ for you, Lord Belus. And you are blind to it. >

The rumble of Dark Side power coming from Adrestin was felt more than heard, and Eri flinched. But they didn't back down. <They are sending a member of the Tribunal to rendezvous with us at Lord Dirae's residence. I was instructed to have you speak with Darth Vialis. He will be waiting to meet us when we arrive. If the Jedi is as earnest and honest as he appears, he should not have any problem meeting with an unbiased member of the Tribunal.>

Adrestin slowly nodded, but the pressure of the Dark Side did not ease. “This was not your decision to make, Erion.”

Dom leaned in towards Astele and whispered in her ear. “I... I don't r-really know what the Tribunal is, but everyone just got really grim. What – what's going to happen to me?”

Astele pushed him off the bench and tugged on his hand, quietly leading him away from the arguing Sith. Once they were out of earshot, she shivered and shrugged. “Honestly I don't know much about them, personally. I know Lord Dirae is one of them, and that they're Lord Belus and Master Erion's superiors. They're essentially just below the Sith Emperor and his Wrath and his Hands, I think.”

They ducked into Astele's quarters just as Eri's voice rose to a shout, matched by a low bellow from Adrestin and another wave of cold pressure in the Dark Side. Dom jumped inside and slammed the door shut behind them, fresh tears springing to his eyes. “He – he's really mad now.” He crouched down on the floor and hugged his knees. “I'm too much trouble – I can't – I mean, I don't –”

Astele dropped down next to him and curled her arms around his shoulders. “Hey, it's okay. They fight sometimes, and sometimes they get loud, but nobody's been hurt yet. It'll be fine. Lord Belus isn't mad at _you.”_

Dom sniffled. “N-no, but he's mad _because_ of me. I'm – I'm not _trying_ to cause trouble, I _swear!_ I just – I just – I don't know what I'm supposed to do, and I don't know what's going to happen to me, and this Darth Vialis is probably going to kill me, and –” He dissolved into hiccoughs and tears.

Astele sighed and tightened her grip. “Nobody's gonna kill you, Dom. I'll kill them first if they even try.”

“And what if it's Erion? They _hate_ me.”

Astele fell silent at that, and just rested her chin on Dom's shoulder. As the hour wore on, the yelling and bellowing back in the common area slowly subsided, but Dom continued to shake and cry. Astele didn't know what else to do other than keep holding on to him.

Heavy footfalls approached and stopped just outside Astele's door, and the soft tap of claws against metal rang louder than it should have in the room.

Dom's head shot up and he shook his head wildly, eyes wide. “D-don't let him come in, Astele, he'll –”

“He won't do anything to you, Dom. It's okay.” She waved the door open with the Force, and Adrestin stepped in to loom over them as they still sat curled up together on the floor. Both Astele and Adrestin could feel Dom's spike of panic shoot through him in the Force, and he fixed his wide white eyes up at Adrestin.

“I'm sorry if our argument frightened you,” Adrestin murmured, keeping his voice low and soothing. “It was not my intent to instill even more fear within you.”

Dom didn't respond, only dropped his eyes to the floor and shivered.

Adrestin crouched down next to Astele and Dom and held a hand out to the Jedi. “I will repeat what I told you earlier. You are my responsibility now, and you are under my protection. I am not angry with you, Domthus. I never was. You have done nothing wrong, you have only been an unfortunate victim of circumstances.”

Dom managed a tiny nod, but he still stared at the floor. Adrestin sighed and turned to Astele. “I know this is your room, but would you leave us alone for a moment? I would like to speak to Domthus privately.”

“Yeah, sure.” Astele shrugged and stood up, trying to ignore the panicked look on Dom's face. “He's still scared shitless of you though, so try not to freak him out too much.” She slipped out the door with a quick wave to Dom.

A squawk of protest died quickly on Dom's lips as the door slid shut, leaving him alone with Adrestin. He curled in on himself and hugged his knees to his chest, trying to make himself as small a target as possible.

But Adrestin just sat down next to Dom, letting his long legs sprawl out in front of him. He just sat there for a long moment, letting the silence grow thick and awkward around them. Dom shifted uncomfortably next to him, trying to subtly inch a little further away. But as he squirmed a low-frequency click-rattle came from somewhere within Adrestin, felt more than heard, and vibrated through the floor and the air. It resonated within the Force with a gentle warmth that seemed to go straight to Dom's frazzled nerves, soothing his frayed edges and calming his heart. Adrestin didn't look at Dom, but instead spoke to the floor. “I know you are feeling lost and alone, and very uncertain about what tomorrow may bring. I know I cannot ease those fears, but perhaps I can ease your fear of _me,_ at least somewhat. Is there anything I can do, that would prove to you that I intend you no harm?”

Dom took in a slow, shaky breath. “I – I don't...” He shook his head. “I don't know, I'm – I'm sorry. I'm not – I'm such a terrible Jedi, I shouldn't feel fear – but I just – I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”

Adrestin turned his head to meet Dom's eyes, and he gave him a small smile. “You have nothing to apologize for, Domthus. And you are an exemplary Jedi, if inexperienced. You shine brightly. The Order is blind to the strength of their own Jedi.”

“Strength?” Dom almost laughed out loud, but it came out closer to nervous squeaking. “I'm – I'm not strong.”

“No? I have you to thank for helping keep Astele alive against the threat of Hssiss on a hostile planet. I have you to thank for easing Siv's sorrow at losing so many of his comrades. And I have you to thank for assisting Astele in giving Erion a functioning body again, and even coming up with ideas for improvements on her designs. Such things are not easy tasks, and yet you have accomplished them with ease.”

Dom's horns flushed a deep purple at the unexpected string of compliments, and he stared hard at the floor. “I – um. T-thank you.”

“It does not end there. It took great courage to defend Astele – and the rest of us – to your superiors, Domthus. Yet you did so without hesitation, and I sense no regret within you. Even after what they did to you in return.”

Dom sighed and pressed his forehead against his knees. “I... I think t-that's more stupidity than c-courage.”

“Yet you do not regret it?”

Slowly, Dom shook his head. “I'm... I'm _right._ I know I am. You – you _are_ good people. You've been k-kind to me and Siv from the m-moment you saw us. You didn't have to, but you did.”

“And I will continue to be kind to you. You are welcome here, and you are safe here. And I will defend you to my own superiors if the need arises. I will not abandon you, Domthus. Whether you trust me or no.” Adrestin didn't shift position from where he sat next to Dom, but he did rest his hand on the floor, palm up.

Dom watched Adrestin's hand out of the corner of his eye, sniffling as he rubbed at his face with the back of his wrist. “I'm – I'm sorry I'm like this. I'm just – I t-thought I was doing okay, but I wasn't g-good enough. And now I can't s-stop crying like a baby.”

Adrestin merely nodded. “There is never a need to apologize for who you are, Domthus.” His hand came up to brush a thumb against Dom's elbow. “And tears do not need to be stifled. If you need to cry, you should never feel as though you are disallowed to do so. Not on this ship, and not in my presence.”

Dom sniffled again, but managed to nod. “Y-yes sir.”

Adrestin chuckled. “You needn't worry with honorifics. Or titles, for that matter. I certainly do not feel insulted if they are not used. I actually prefer it that way.”

“Is... is that why Siv c-calls you by your first name?”

“Mm. Yes. And you are quite welcome to do so as well.” Adrestin quirked up one corner of his mouth. “Truthfully, you could refer to me as 'hey, you' and I would respond.”

Dom flashed a faltering, nervous smile through his tears. “I – I'd never dare.”

“May I call you Dom?”

“I – um. Y-yes of course.” The base of his horns turned an even deeper shade of mottled purple. “E-everyone calls me Dom.”

“Then Dom it is.”

They fell into silence for a few long moments, the only sound the low-frequency vibration coming from deep within Adrestin's chest. It smoothed out the painful edges of the feelings Dom had still rolling around inside of him, but even then he still could not stop himself from making mental circles. He once again scrubbed at his eyes, the hurt in his heart welling over again. “Why...”

Adrestin tilted his head. “Dom?”

“W-why did they say they couldn't do anything for me? Did... did they think I fell?”

Adrestin shrugged one shoulder. “I honestly do not know, Dom. The reasoning of the Jedi Order is something I have never understood.”

“I... I didn't, did I?” Dom's lower lip began to quiver, and he looked more lost than ever before. “... Did I?”

Adrestin turned to fully face Dom, and slowly reached a hand forward to tilt Dom's chin up. “Listen to me, little one. I do not know what is going through the minds of the Jedi that left you behind, but I do know what embracing the Dark Side looks like. And you did _not_ fall. You shine just as brightly and beautifully in the Force as you did when I first saw you hiding in the bushes near that shrine. You are full of light and colour, and you have not changed since then. Not at all.”

He released his chin and Dom's eyes dropped back down, full of tears. “I... guess that's g-good. I t-think. I'm not – I'm not supposed to be so... so colourful.”

“I do not quite have the extraordinary aura-reading capabilities that Astele has been gifted with, but from what I can tell, you still shine. And to my eyes, those colours are luminous and beautiful.”

The mottled purple flush reached the tips of Dom's horns, and he buried his face in his hands. Tears spilled out from between his fingers, and Adrestin sat forward in alarm. “I said the wrong thing.”

Dom shook his head and scrubbed furiously at his face, looking up at Adrestin with a weak, watery smile. “N-no, I just... no one's ever – no one's ever called it b-beautiful before.”

Adrestin returned the smile. “I am surprised. It is truly quite striking.” Through the Force, he gently probed around the edges of Dom's presence, sensing the fluctuations and uncertainties in his mood. His aura felt desperately confused, still somewhat afraid, but also very strongly drawn to Adrestin's own presence in the Force. He was reminded a little of Sivin, though Dom was without the decades of self-loathing and second-guessing. His grief and fear over the Order abandoning him so easily was not buried under layers of false serenity and resigned bitterness, but instead stood out raw and harsh in a haze of shocked wonder.

...It made Adrestin's heart hurt. He slowly spread his hands. “...May I hold you?”

Dom stared up at him with huge white eyes, still watery with tears. “W-what?”

“You can tell me no.”

Dom just blinked up at him, his trembling beginning anew. He stammered something that might have been words, but Adrestin couldn't make out what he was trying to say. The hesitation and fear in his presence communicated more than enough, though. Adrestin nodded more to himself than to Dom, and instead of gathering up the little Jedi in his arms he just leaned forward to rest a hand lightly on his head. “I should go make us a long-overdue meal. Shall I go get Astele?”

Dom just nodded mutely, and the purple mottling on his horns deepened and shifted with his motion. Adrestin gave him a gentle smile and got to his feet, waving the door open with the Force. He disappeared down the hall, leaving Dom to blow out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't bring myself to make this as melodramatic as it was in my head, mostly because I'm really, really terrible at writing scenes with so many people in them. I also just wanted to get it over with because I've been stewing on this scene for like a month. Sometimes things just don't want to be written the way you have them go in your head, and there's nothing to do but shit something out and hope it works. *sigh*


	16. In Which Dom Makes A Discovery, And Sivin Makes A Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Astele prompts Dom to work off some of his nervous energy by exploring the ship, he discovers something that shocks him. Meanwhile, Sivin is struggling with being back among the Jedi Order again, and he makes an important decision.

“So, you survived your first heart-to-heart with Lord Belus,” Astele snickered, her voice light but quiet. “And you're even all in one piece, too. Wow. Amazing.”

Dom rolled his reddened puffy eyes, and the flush over his horns deepened. “Look, I know it's stupid, all right? But I'll – I'll get over it. I'm going to work on it. The... the Jedi Order... They might not want me anymore, but that doesn't mean I'm not a Jedi. And Jedi have no fear.”

“Right, right. 'Fear is the Dark Side', or something. Sure.” She plunked down next to Dom where he lay flat on his back on her bed, and patted his forehead. “You're blushing like crazy, though. You sure that's fear?”

He sat up and threw a pillow at her. “Shut up! I can't _help_ it.” His horns mottled an even deeper shade of purple, and he scowled at his friend.

“Not my fault, Dom.” She gave him a toothy grin. “But it's not all that surprising, lots and _lots_ of people get that way about Lord Belus.”

Dom flopped back down and rolled over on his stomach to bury his face in another of her pillows. “We are not having this conversation.”

“What's that? I couldn't hear you.”

He rolled to the side just enough that he could peer up at her with one eye. “Why do we have to talk about this? It's _embarrassing.”_

She laughed. “Oh, fine. Have it your way.” Her joints cracked as she stretched, and she leaned backwards to use Dom's back as a pillow. “So Eri said that Gallus could wake up in a few hours. I'll have to introduce you when he does. I think you'll get along pretty well.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. He's probably only a year or two older than you. He's kind of rough around the edges, but he's real friendly.”

“ _'Dwarf nuna running around your feet'_ kind of friendly, or _'hungry tuk'ata with a taste for Elomin Jedi'_ kind of friendly?”

Astele laughed and waved a hand vaguely in the air. “Oh, probably a little bit of both.”

“Ah. Fabulous.” He squirmed around on the bed, and Astele eyeballed him as she sat back up. “Man, you are _crazy_ restless. Why don't you go take a walk or something?”

“Astele, we're on a _ship.”_

“Yeah, so? Just...” she waved her hand at the door to her quarters, “Go for a walk. Poke around. Unless something ridiculously weird happens, you're going to be living here with us for a while. Might as well get familiar with the rest of the ship, instead of just the common area and my room.”

Dom frowned. “Are you going to come with me?”

She rolled her eyes. “You don't need a babysitter to explore the ship. The only places you're not supposed to go will be locked. You can't kriff it up. Go on, I'm gonna go keep Gallus company for a while. Maybe he'll wake up while I'm in there with him.”

“...Okay, but if I get in trouble, I'm blaming you.”

Astele snickered. “Fine, fine. Deal. Now go wander. I'll be in the med bay.”

 

***********************************

 

The soft hiss of Adrestin's door sliding open made him turn one pair of eyes up to the threshold of his quarters, but he wasn't at all surprised to see Erion in the doorway. He waved them inside. “Cooled off?”

<...For now.> Eri maneuvered their repulsor harness over to rest on the edge of Adrestin's bed. <We have more important things to talk about than the fate of the little Elomin Jedi.>

Adrestin gave Erion a small humorless smile. “Is my heartache that palpable in the Force?”

<Despite how inexplicable it remains to me, you consider Ikalruq a friend. It is only natural that losing him causes grief.>

The smile grew a little, but Adrestin's eyes remained sad. “Is it that inexplicable? He is hardly the first. You'd think you would be used to my idiosyncrasies by now.”

<True. But he is the first that has endeared himself to you this quickly. Along with the little one as well.>

“Mm. I suppose. Things moved fast.” Adrestin leaned back and stared at the ceiling, letting one pair of eyes drift shut. “But I do not regret a moment of it. We were both exactly what the other needed. And I'd venture to say we continue to be, though it may not be readily apparent at the moment.”

<If you say so.> Erion leaned over to brush the back of their natural hand over the side of Adrestin's face. <You are growing soft, Lord Belus.>

He snorted. “And what if I am? Does that make me less of a Sith?”

<I would say no. But some would say yes.>

“And they would be wrong.” He reached a clawed hand up to cover Erion's. “You should know – from personal experience – that I show kindness and gentleness only to those I choose. And anyone else who dares to expect me to be 'soft' would be sorely mistaken.”

The corners of Erion's eyes crinkled up behind their respirator. <And that is why I love you. You have never sacrificed your pride for your kindness.>

“Mm.” Adrestin nuzzled Erion's hand before letting it go.

<Though that does not make losing Ikalruq hurt any less. I imagine.>

“No, it doesn't.” Adrestin shook his head. “Nor does it ease my own doubts. I wonder if I did the right thing, letting him go.”

<And what other choice would you have made?>

“I could have pressed him to stay. Stars know he would be safer, and saner, here with us than back with the Jedi Order. And free.”

It was Erion's turn to shake their head. <It would have only made him feel worse. And guiltier than he already feels. Could have bred resentment, or worse. You did the right thing. Letting him go.>

“...I suppose, yes.” Adrestin unclipped Sivin's lightsaber from where he had attached it to his belt and turned it over delicately in his hands. “I do hope he gives himself time to think. His inner turmoil was only growing more intense as the time approached to return to his Order. He is afraid of them, Eri.”

<I could sense it too. But he has proved that he is excellent at masking his emotional state from other Jedi. Time will tell.>

“I suppose so.”

Eri inclined their head to indicate the lightsaber. <Are you adding that one to your collection?>

Adrestin nodded. “It merits a place of honor. Though I wish I hadn't had to gain it simply for the purpose of keeping up appearances.”

Erion shrugged. <Far stranger, if you had given it back. Particularly since you already have a reputation for collecting them.>

“Indeed.” Adrestin rose and stretched. “I suppose I should place it with the rest, and then I should check on Gallus.”

Erion waved him away, the corners of their eyes once again crinkling in an unseen smile. <Attend to your shrine. I will join you in medbay.>

 

***********************************

 

The _Archon Red_ was not a large ship, but it was not necessarily small, either. Dom had discovered a second short hall that led further back into the ship, stretching from the main hallway that connected all of the crew's quarters. Here he had found the doors to the secondary cargo hold and the brig, as well as a primary access-way to some of the ship's systems. He only had one more door to go before he would turn around and backtrack, and he tapped the panel for it with a little impatience.

He was certainly restless, as Astele had said. He hated being cooped up on a ship any longer than he had to be, instead preferring to be planetside, out in the open air or at the very least in a normal building. But if the things that Adrestin and Astele had said were true, he'd probably be spending a _lot_ of time stuck on this ship. He sighed as he tapped the panel again, and took a step inside when it slid silently open.

It was a sizable room, more than half of it lost to darkness for the lack of automatic lights. From what he could tell, most of the space must have been used for sparring. But what drew his eye was a small alcove in the far corner, dimly lit with a reddish glow. He approached slowly, and as he did so he could see that he was looking at some sort of display case.

It had three walls, each illuminated overhead by soft red lights and backed by burgundy velvet. Two of the walls each held dozens of lightsabers, and each had a small placard beside it, etched with a name and a date. The third wall was the same, though it held but four.

Frowning, Dom leaned in closer to the first wall to inspect the inscriptions and the lightsabers they described. Slowly, his white eyes widened and his mouth hung open. Some names he recognized – a few had been famous Jedi once, and had fallen in battle with the Sith many years ago. Some had simply vanished, their only claim to fame being their mysterious disappearance. And some...

He ran a finger over a familiar green, silver, and yellow seal.

Some were BrightWatch.

He took a few steps back from the alcove, his breath suddenly short as he cupped a hand over his mouth. If this was Adrestin's ship and these were trophies taken from kills, then they could only be the Dark Lord's own work. And there were dozens here... Dom's stomach churned, and he held his hand tighter to his mouth to keep from being sick.

Behind him the door slid open, and Astele peeked her head in. She was about to call out to Dom to get his attention, but just seeing him from behind was enough to tell her he was pale and shaking. She took one quick glance at the alcove and her face grew grim. Without a word she ducked back out the door.

Dom stood staring at the alcove for several long minutes, trying to will his nausea and sudden panic away. He swallowed hard and vigorously rubbed the sides of his head, trying to clear his thoughts. “There is no fear, there is tranquility... Come on, Dom, focus. Calm down. Breathe.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “No fear, only tranquility. Come on. Be a Jedi.”

The door behind him once again slid open, and the click of Adrestin's claws on the door frame announced his presence even before he said a word. “...Dom? Astele told me you were...”

Dom had whirled around at the first sound of Adrestin entering, his white eyes huge and his entire frame trembling. “I'm – I'm sorry – I –”

Adrestin stopped at the threshold of the room. “It's alright, Dom. You're allowed in here.” One pair of eyes flicked over to the display alcove, while the other still focused on the little shivering Jedi. “I see you found my shrine.”

Dom's gaze was riveted on Adrestin, but he slowly nodded. Adrestin took a careful step forward, extending a hand as he did so. “I was on my way back in here to put Sivin's lightsaber in a place of honor. Shall I tell you about them?”

Dom backed up, nearly pressing against one of the display walls in an attempt to keep as far away from Adrestin as he could. But instead of cornering Dom, Adrestin sidestepped him and went to the furthest of the three walls, placing Sivin's lightsaber in a space just above the four other blades adorning that wall. With a claw, Adrestin carefully etched a few words onto the blank placard there, then turned to Dom. He gestured to the wall behind Dom, the first that had dozens of lightsabers upon it. “As I am sure you have already figured out, those are indeed kills. I will not deny that.”

Dom took a quick glance behind him and cringed at the sheer amount of blades hanging there. “Y-your trophies.”

Adrestin shook his head. “Hardly. I see them more as mementos. For every life I take, it is a grim reminder of the fragility of living. I never want to forget that, or take it for granted.” He stretched a claw out to the center wall, also adorned with dozens of lightsabers – even more than the first. “And these are from those whom I defeated, but left alive.”

Dom blinked, confusion spreading over his face. “A-and those?” He raised a shaky hand to point at the wall where Adrestin had just placed Sivin's lightsaber.

Adrestin gave him a soft smile. “Those are... gifts, for lack of a better term. Strange circumstances, unusual encounters, and... and friendships forged. I find it only right that Sivin's blade should be the shining star on that wall.”

Again, Dom blinked. His heart rate was slowing now and his breathing had calmed, but he still felt on edge. “B-but you've k-killed so many.”

Adrestin nodded. “I have. I have been a Sith all of my life, Domthus. And a warrior for just as long. Death is as much a part of my life as the air I breathe and the people I love.” The low-frequency vibration from deep in Adrestin's chest began to permeate the room, and he once again extended a hand to Dom. “But you knew that already. This is just a visual confirmation of things you already knew. Yet it troubles you greatly to see it, and for that I am sorry. I was not thinking. Had I known it would upset you so, I would have locked this room.”

The apology surprised Dom, but he still didn't take Adrestin's proffered hand. His gaze lingered on Sivin's lightsaber, his own fingers tapping at the hilt of his own.

Adrestin inclined his head towards Dom's hand. “I remember being told that you have two lightsabers yourself?”

Dom began to nod, but it slowly turned into a shake of his head. “I... I used the p-pieces of one to – to finish the c-communicator back on –”

“You mean this one?” Adrestin's outstretched hand slowly reached inside his vest and carefully pulled out a familiar lightsaber. “Astele gave me the pieces. I replaced the power cell, so it is back in working order. Please, take it. It is yours, after all.”

Cautiously, Dom took a step forward and tentatively accepted the offered blade. He gazed thoughtfully down at it, a troubled frown growing over his face.

“What is wrong, Dom?”

He shook his head. “I – I'm not... I c-can't actually _use_ two blades.”

“Has no one taught you Jar'Kai?”

Dom blew out a breath and managed a shrug. “W-well... yes? I guess. I just... I'd end up hurting myself if I tried. I'm not good at it.”

Adrestin favoured Dom with a gentle smile. “Afraid of using two blades at the same time?”

Dom gave him a miserable nod. “I'm afraid of a lot of things. I'm – I'm sure you've noticed.”

“Fear is nothing to be ashamed of, Dom. It is survival instinct, self-preservation. But if confidence is something you desire, I would gladly offer to teach you.”

Dom's head cocked to one side. “T-teach me Jar'Kai? But I already... had a teacher for it. And I failed repeatedly.”

Adrestin shook his head. “I doubt you did. And I have a feeling you already know Jar'Kai, though I would happily help you fine tune your skills. No, it is confidence that I am offering to teach you. If you would have me.”

The base of Dom's horns flushed a mottled purple and he stared at the ground. “Is... is that... I didn't think it could be something that could just simply be taught.”

“You would be surprised what things can actually be learned, that one often assumes are only natural traits or affinities.” He leaned forward slowly, and when Dom didn't pull away he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Think on it if you like. The offer remains open, and I do not expect an immediate answer, or any answer at all if you do not wish to. I will never push you to try something you do not want to do.”

Dom gave him a weak and faltering smile, but before he could respond the door once again slid open, and Erion tapped on the door frame. <I do not want to interrupt, but Gallus is awake. Astele is with him.>

Adrestin nodded, and his smile grew. “We can talk about this again whenever you like, Dom. But for now I must see to my dear friend's apprentice. You are welcome to come meet him, if you wish. He is quite charming.” He offered his hand again to Dom.

This time Dom took it, though he cast his eyes to the floor and his hands were shaking.

 

***********************************

 

 _BrightWatch VII_ looked exactly like _BrightWatch IV_ both inside and out, Sivin mused to himself as he sat on a medbay cot while Zarinne checked his vitals. Both ships were kept spotlessly clean and gleaming to match the image the Jedi Order wanted to present of BrightWatch itself. Not that long ago he had found the uniformity and sterility comforting, but now he just squirmed under the bright lights and white walls.

“You're in surprisingly good shape for being in Sith hands for a few days,” Zarinne murmured for at least the third or fourth time. “Your heart rate and adrenaline levels are pretty high, but other than that you're almost in better condition than when you left Coruscant.”

Siv gave her a wan smile. “I honestly couldn't begin to understand Sith logic when it comes to the particulars of how they treat their prisoners.”

“Maybe they were better to you because of your fame.” She patted his shoulder and sat down beside him. “Or perhaps they were hoping that you would be more susceptible to their influence and want to stay with them, like Dom.”

Siv flinched like he'd been hit. “Dom didn't _want_ to stay, Zarinne. We _left_ him there.”

Zarinne's facial tentacles drooped. “I chose my words poorly.”

“You _know_ he didn't fall. But now there's a good possibility that he _will,_ because we left him there on a ship full of Sith. We _abandoned_ him.” He ran a shaky hand through his head tendrils. “I never should have left him.”

“I...” Zarinne stared at the floor, the tentacles on the back of her neck twitching.

“What, Zar?”

She shook her head. “It's not my place to –”

“Oh stop beating around the bush. Spit it out.”

She sighed. “Well... Dom shouldn't have said anything. He said a lot of things in the heat of the moment that I'm sure he _thought_ were true, but... honestly, I mean, defending a _Sith?_ I know he's naïve, but that is crossing the line between impressionable and downright traitorous.”

Siv curled his lip. “He said nothing worse than other Jedi that have come back to –”

“ _Other Jedi,_ yes. But other Jedi weren't _BrightWatch._ He can't come back, Sivin. The Sith tainted him. They managed to manipulate him into believing they were good people. _Good people,_ Siv. If he ever came back, every thought he would have about the Sith would be tainted by their lies and influenced by their manipulation. He'd have doubts, he'd have hesitations. And those doubts and hesitations would only grow stronger in time. We've seen it happen before. They'd grow and grow, until one day he'd just break. He would either abandon the Jedi or betray us. And that is not something BrightWatch can afford. You should know that better than anyone.”

“But to _leave_ him there?” Sivin snarled, “in the hands of the Sith?”

“Honestly, if Halde had her way, we would have killed him instead. But... You were right. We couldn't afford bloodshed today. Not on a neutral world and not on a recovery mission. If we had started something, it could have triggered an escalation in violence that the Republic can't handle right now. So our only other option was to just leave him behind. If he honestly thinks the Sith are good people, he'll learn very quickly just how wrong he is. But he was trained by BrightWatch. If he realizes just how serious his error is, then he will figure out a way to escape their clutches. The Force will guide him.” She reached over with a tentacle to squeeze Siv's shoulder. “And if, _if,_ he returns, I am sure with reconditioning he could be brought back among the ranks of the Jedi Order once again, although probably not with BrightWatch.”

“Reconditioning.” Siv flinched inwardly, but Zarinne only saw his outward sigh. “Supposing he ever manages to return in the first place.”

“Supposing that, yes.”

Siv squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers to his temples. “Could you leave me alone for a while, Zarinne? It's been... hard. I just need to rest, and meditate.”

“Of course. I'll ensure that you are not disturbed.” She rose from her spot next to him and waved open the door with the Force. “If you need anything, please call me.”

“Mm.”

The door slid shut, and Siv let out a half-sob, half-sigh. He slumped to the side to lie down on the cot, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes in a halfhearted attempt to keep the tears at bay. Everything felt wrong. Not just terrible and awkward and anxiety-inducing, but _wrong._ He was back with the Jedi Order now, back where he belonged. So why did he feel as though he should be anywhere else _but_ here?

He rolled to one side and slid off the cot, dragging himself to his feet and across the room. He leaned against the bulkhead and stared out of the single round transparisteel window in the room, trying to will away the steadily increasing feelings of anxiety and loss.

“I guess this is what I get for getting attached, eh?” he muttered to himself and the Force, not trusting words to anyone or anything else. He pulled the tiny comm unit that Adrestin had given him out of his robes and turned it over in his hands.

Adrestin. He was already missing the Sith Lord, and it had only been a few hours since they had parted. Adrestin had taught him so much in the few days that they had been able to spend together, and shown him more kindness and gentleness than he had thought any Sith should ever have been capable of, much less that any Jedi had ever shown him.

And that wasn't _right._ It _couldn't_ be right. It went against everything he had been taught about the Sith, went against everything he had _experienced_ of the Sith before he had met Adrestin. And the fact that he had so readily accepted it from Adrestin was, if anything, more disturbingly telling of Sivin's own mental state than anything else.

He leaned his head against the transparisteel and stared out at the stars. His own judgment was clouded on this, he knew. It had all moved so fast. He had gotten too close to Adrestin, too soon. Hell, he shouldn't have gotten close _at all,_ but he also knew that the friendship Adrestin had offered was something he had been too weak to deny himself. And he didn't doubt that friendship, either. It was very real, all too genuine. And it was that friendship that had been Sivin's guiding light over the past few days. It has sustained him, comforted him, given him strength and peace of mind.

But those were all things that the Jedi Code and the Force should have done for him, if only he had kept his focus and been resolute in his thinking. But attachment had clouded his judgment, clouded his understanding, raised so many doubts, and now it was keeping him from feeling the peace and the serenity he should be immersed in with the Light Side of the Force.

He couldn't afford to have doubts. Not in BrightWatch. Not in the Jedi Order. He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed the tears that threatened to well up. With one swift motion, he crushed the communicator in his hand.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am having feels and not all of them are good


	17. In Which We Officially Meet Darth Gallus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darth Gallus has regained consciousness, and Adrestin introduces him to Dom.

By the time Adrestin and Dom arrived in the medbay, Erion was already hovering beside Gallus's bed and Astele had climbed up onto his pillow to sit beside him. Adrestin beamed at Gallus, and came up to the foot of the bed to pat his ankle. “I am relieved to see you cognizant and alert.”

Gallus turned his compound eyes up at Adrestin, and threw him a grin. “Aw, _wknuto,_ Lord Belus. I'm tough. _Wac._ A lil torture an' neglect ain't possibly gonna keep me down.” He flicked his starry gaze beyond Adrestin to focus on Dom, and his antennae swiveled to zero in on him. “Is dis deh Jedi-errant Astele just mentioned?”

Adrestin curled a careful arm around Dom's shoulders and gently nudged him out from behind him. “Domthus, this is Gallus, recently named a Darth. He is Lord Dirae's apprentice, although I doubt it will be more than a few years before he discards the moniker of a learner.”

Dom's horns flushed several shades of purple as Adrestin brought him up to stand beside him, but he managed to make an awkward bow. “Hello, it's an –”

_“Skak,_ what use ya puttin' him to?”

Dom startled, and glanced from Gallus to Adrestin. Gallus was gazing up at Adrestin with a quizzical stare, head tilted. “I mean, Jedi are... eh, _b_ _odo na wieedo._ What use is a Jedi, yeah?”

Though his expression was still gentle, Adrestin's lower pair of eyes narrowed and he pulled Dom fractionally closer to him. “Not your concern, Gallus. Domthus is under my care until further notice.”

Gallus's head quirked to the other side. “Ohh, I getcha. Fallen Jedi? Ya takin' him as an apprentice, then?”

Dom's eyes nearly bugged out of his head, and Astele made a sound halfway between a snort and a laugh. “Oh _honestly,_ Gallus, of all the things.”

Adrestin merely smiled and shook his head. “No, as of right now, Dom is simply a newfound companion. And a guest aboard my ship. I have promised another Jedi friend that I would take care of him.”

Gallus scoffed and rolled his eyes. “A'ight then, _n_ _chtha zno ta_ _._ A Jedi is yer friend. But a Jedi ain't no ally.”

Adrestin sighed. “I have more than enough allies, Gallus. Being allies is not required for guests, friends, or companions, or even for apprentices and masters, if you intend to go into nitpicking details.”

Gallus waved his hands in front of his face. _“Ropa, ropa,_ point taken. I ain't gonna harass him or nothin'.” He was still grinning when he flicked his eyes back to Dom, but his antennae swiveled around as though he were trying to pick up any warning signals.

Dom just shrugged and bobbed his head again in a quick bow. “It's still nice to meet you, at any rate. Astele's had nothing but good things to say about you.”

Gallus snickered and elbowed Astele next to him. _“Ha rido._ You been lyin', Bimm?”

“Me?” She regarded him with owl-eyed innocence. “I would _never.”_

Erion placed their good hand on Gallus's arm to interrupt the exchange. <It is good to have you with us, Gallus. We are returning immediately to Bosthirda to return you to your Master. Among other things.>

Gallus's fast-returning grin grew wider. “I've been missin' _Greeava_ Dirae somethin' fierce, lemme tell ya. 'Twas the only thing intolerable 'bout bein' captured, I reckon.”

“She will be quite relieved to have you back,” Adrestin added, “she has been worried sick about you.”

“Aw, _a_ _lquo nvtonu_ – I didn't mean ta make her fret. But what 'other things' ya mean, Lord Eri?”

Erion used their metal arm to gesture over at Dom. <We will be meeting another member of the Tribunal there, to give Lord Belus a verdict about keeping the Jedi.>

“ _Je_...” the antennae on Gallus's head swiveled back and forth, in either trepidation or caution, or perhaps a little of both. “...Mind if I ask which one?”

<Darth Vialis.>

Gallus visibly shuddered, and he threw another smile over at Dom, only this one was more than a little nervous, and not without some level of sympathy. _“Ukle wac_ on survivin' dat one, lil Jedi guy. I met him once a long time ago, an' he's _terrifyin'.”_

Astele jumped from her perch on the pillow to the foot of the bed, alarm showing on her face as she got a protective grip on one of Dom's arms. Dom looked even more worried than Astele, and he looked to Adrestin. “What's going to...”

“Nothing is going to happen to you, Domthus.” Adrestin patted his shoulder and sighed before directing his words back to Gallus. “I have met Vialis several times. He is an exemplary Sith. He is humorless and short on words, but he has always been quite fair and impartial from what I have seen of him, and he is not going to cause any harm to Dom.”

He threw a firm look at Gallus to cement his words, but Gallus just slowly nodded. “Okay, whatever. _Alquo nvtonu._ How'd ya pick up Dom anyway?”

“Oh man, now _that's_ a story,” Astele snickered and climbed back up to the head of the bed. “You wouldn't believe the little circus that happened, it's – wait, can I tell it?” She turned questioning eyes to both Erion and Adrestin.

Erion simply shrugged, and Adrestin nodded. “It's perfectly fine with me, it was not a particularly covert mission. You may tell whatever you like, if it is fine with Dom.”

Dom nodded in agreement as well, and with that Adrestin beamed at each of them. “I'll be taking my leave to cook us all some food while Astele fills Gallus in.” He bowed out of the room, and Astele's ears perked up as she curled up to Gallus's side.

“So there was this group of Jedi iconoclasts that had been reported hanging around the edge of Sith space, looking for shrines and monuments to destroy, and Lord Belus received a request for us to investigate...”

Dom listened to Astele tell the tale from her point of view, with Erion interjecting corrections to her slight exaggerations and flair every few minutes. But after a while Dom found his mind wandering. Or rather, fixating elsewhere.

With both Gallus and Erion's attention on Astele's story, he quietly slipped out of the medbay and made his way back to the common area. He could see Adrestin in the galley from there, busying himself with several pans on the stove and another in the oven. Dom slipped into the seat at the Dejarik table and watched him from the corner of his eye, idly wondering how many years he had been cooking to make it look so effortless. A few long moments of quiet stretched by, though they certainly weren't quiet in Dom's head. All the possibilities that he could think of – of what might happen when they got back to Bosthirda – were running in circles in his mind, and none of them seemed like very good outcomes. It made Dom dizzy, yet he couldn't bring himself to ask Adrestin why he seemed so confident that a strange Sith, with no ties to Sivin and no knowledge of what had happened at the Sith shrine, would side with him or look on Dom with any sort of compassion.

A soft clearing of a throat from the galley startled Dom out of his anxious reverie. “I can feel your eyes on me, Dom. If you wish to talk with me,” Adrestin called quietly, “All you have to do is start speaking. I will listen.”

Three different shades of purple mottled Dom's horns, and he would have tried to stammer a reply if he even knew what to say, but instead he just sat there and averted his gaze from Adrestin to the checkered pattern on the Dejarik table.

Adrestin spoke again from the galley. “Would you come here, Dom?”

Flushing even deeper shades, Dom got up from the table and slowly inched his way into the galley. He came to a stop at the edge of the counter and stared at the floor.

Adrestin had turned his attention mostly back to his cooking, and he gestured for a container of spices on the counter near Dom. “Would you hand me that, please?”

Dom complied, and as Adrestin took it from him, his lower pair of eyes lingered on Dom's face as his upper pair focused on the task at hand. “You are worried about something. Would you tell me what it is?”

Dom shrugged and sighed. “...Darth Vialis, honestly.”

“Mm.” Adrestin added another shake of spices to the pot he was currently stirring, then used the Force to float the container back to its place on the rack above the stove. “Do not allow Gallus's exaggerations to get to you. He knows Lord Vialis primarily from one brief encounter, rumor, and passing words, whereas I know him as an acquaintance and as a peer. Lord Vialis is a capable and reasonable Sith. He is not petty or impulsive, nor is he predisposed towards looking upon Jedi in a negative light. He will come to a well-thought-out and fair decision.”

“But... what if he comes to a conclusion that involves me dying, or getting taken somewhere else? I don't...” He shuddered. “I don't think I could survive in Sith space if... if you and Astele weren't with me.”

Adrestin stopped stirring the pot on the stove and turned to focus fully on Dom. He crouched down to meet him at his eye level, and carefully took one of Dom's hands in his own. “If I may be as bluntly honest as the truth allows, Dom? Whatever conclusion Lord Vialis comes to, whatever decision the Tribunal arrives at, it doesn't matter. I have already committed to protecting you. I have already promised both you and Sivin that I would keep you safe, and I cannot and _will_ not go back on my word. If the Tribunal takes issue with that, then so be it. We will deal with such things as they come. But I will not abandon you to them, or to anyone else.”

Dom cast his eyes back to the floor and flushed a new shade of purple. “T-thank you...”

Sensing his embarrassment, Adrestin gave his hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. He stood back up and patted Dom's shoulder before taking his spoon back in hand. “Would you tell the others that food will be ready in a few minutes?”

Dom managed a nod before dashing off back to the medbay, a shy and flustered smile flashing ever so briefly across his face.

 

* * * * *

 

“A transfer?”

Sivin nodded, but only barely managed to meet Zarinne's gaze. “It's not a permanent one, so don't worry, eh? Just temporary leave from leading BrightWatch. I asked the Council to station me at the satellite Temple on Gleiir for a while.”

“Any reason why? We need you here, Sivin. Your leadership is invaluable.”

He gave her a small humorless smile. “After what happened on our last mission, I am having pretty big doubts about my leadership skills, Zar. I lost every member of that team, in one way or another. Even I was captured. I can't call that being anywhere near 'invaluable'.”

Zarinne's face tentacles flattened and drooped. “But for how long? And what will you even be doing on Gleiir? They're not a full facility. They focus on refining lightsaber technique and meditation, but they have hardly any resources, and communication is sporadic.”

Sivin didn't respond, only nodded and turned to gaze out the transparisteel window. That was precisely the point. He didn't want to have constant contact with the Order right now. He didn't want the constant attention, the persistent questions. What he needed was some time alone. As much as he hated being alone and _not_ distracting himself from his problems, he needed to address this... problem... head-on. But Zarinne didn't need to know the details – a little glossing of the truth was all she needed to hear. “Honestly Zarinne, my meditation skills have been sorely lacking, and I have the feeling that my focus has been suffering. Maybe that's what got me so off my game in the last mission, maybe not. But I need to work on it. Gleiir is ideal.”

Zarinne came up to stand next to Sivin and placed a tentacle on his arm. “You know I fully support whatever you think you need to, Commander. I could come with you –”

“No, Zar. I need to do this on my own.”

She sighed, and her tentacle dropped. “Alright. But if you need anything, anything at all...”

“You'll be the first one I contact.” Siv flashed her a smile that looked far more genuine than it really was. “Thank you, Zar.”

 

* * * * *

 

“...And then when Gallus came up for air, he was just _covered_ in skippersquid ink. Maggs and I were _dying_ of laughter, it was so funny.” Astele was grinning from ear to ear as she recalled the story. “It was my first year at the academy and Gallus's last, but it was the _best_ field trip I ever had while I was there. I wish they'd taken us off-planet more often.”

“Me too, but for diff'rent reasons,” Gallus muttered, a mock scowl over the memory on his face. “Deh academy was _freezing._ Odacer-Faustin is _no_ place for Rodians. _Ittu._ ”

Dom had been trying valiantly to keep a straight face throughout all their talk, but the last hour he had done nothing but smile. His cheeks hurt from the constant wear on his facial muscles, but he could hardly bring himself to care. “Do you ever get to see your old classmates?”

“ _Je, je,_ all deh time. Some of 'em are already dead, but deh ones still alive, dey pop in an' out a lot. Maggs and Kindra 'specially. Ra'at shows up every now and den, but he's always been deh overachiever. Found himself a high-up Master, so he don' have much free time.”

Astele nodded in agreement. “I've seen Jura a few times too, and most of the time he's with Scopique, so they usually give us the digs on what's going on at the edge of wildspace. They go on more adventures than even Master Eri and I do.”

“I almost find that hard to believe,” Dom chuckled. “All the stories you've told me already would be enough to fill a few volumes.”

Gallus shook his head and batted at one of Astele's ears. “Believe me, she ain't told ya half of it. Deh lil _svaper_ keeps all deh hush-hush important stuff to herself.”

Astele rolled her eyes in an exaggerated gesture and shoved playfully at Gallus's shoulder. “Only because you don't know how to shut up. If I want half the Sith Empire to know about a secret operation, you'd be the first one I'd tell.”

“Ya _wound_ me, Bimm!” Gallus clutched at his chest in mock dramatics. _“_ _Kras ka wakon._ Just 'cause I'm so popular with all the acolytes. I mean, I gotta have _somethin'_ to talk about whenever _Greeava_ Dirae drags me with her to visit the academies.”

Astele shook her head and laughed. “I don't think covert ops qualify for small talk, Gal.”

A frown crossed Dom's face. “Does... heh. Um. Does that mean pretty much everyone we run across while I'm in Sith space will know who I am?”

Gallus shrugged and leaned back against the wall, tucking his hands behind his head. _“Je,_ probably.”

Astele patted Dom's arm in an attempt to stave off the alarm already showing on his face. “Oh, relax. If we're meeting with another member of the Tribunal then all the important people already know about you. Anyone else won't matter. Lord Belus will make sure of that.”

Dom's frown deepened. “How do you mean?”

Gallus snickered. “Ain't you been 'round him a while now? Should be obvious to ya he'd kill anyone who threatened ya. Darth Belus don't kriff around. Everybody knows dat. Yer safe, lil guy.”

Dom blew out a breath. “I still find it hard to believe that the entire Sith Empire is just... somehow going to be _totally okay_ with the idea that a Sith Lord is taking care of a Jedi.”

The antennae on Gallus's head flicked, and he shook his head. “Aha. As if yer the first. Yer not as special as ya think, _je?_ Relax, _n'ch'ka._ You got nothin' to worry 'bout.”

Dom wanted to ask him what he meant, but the tap of metal fingers on the door to Astele's quarters interrupted his thoughts.

Astele waved open the door with the Force, and Erion came up to hover just inside the threshold. <Lord Belus suggests that the three of you get some sleep. Soon. We have just under fourteen hours before we arrive back at Bosthirda.> They gestured to Gallus. <You should return to medbay. You may feel fine, but the Jedi had you for a long time. I still have concerns for your health.> They shot a significant look at Dom before ducking back out of Astele's room, and the door slid shut behind them.

Astele heaved a sigh and pouted. “Well I guess _that_ ruins the rest of the night.”

“ _Nvtu,_ it's fine. Ya know Master Erion, dey just want everyone safe is all.” Gallus rolled off of Astele's bed and patted her on her head. “I'll be fine in medbay. You take care o' yer Jedi.”

He leaned over and lightly gripped Dom's arm, mock sternness in his starry eyes. “Ya behave, _je?”_ The serious look melted away and he gave Dom a grin. “G'night y'all.”

Both Dom and Astele waved at him as he left, and Dom took the spot Gallus had vacated on Astele's bed. “I think he actually likes me, despite it all.”

Astele raised an eyebrow. “Of course he does, you're hard not to like. What do you mean, 'despite it all'?”

“Just...” Dom waved a hand vaguely in the air. “I don't know, the whole 'being a Jedi' thing? Wasn't he _just_ captured and held by Jedi? I thought he'd be a little more... angry about it.”

She frowned. “He _is_ angry about it. But he's not angry at _you._ You had nothing to do with that. It wasn't even your division. It was Argent Legion who beat him down and grabbed him, not BrightWatch.”

“Yeah, but...”

“But what? Is he supposed to think all Jedi are the same?”

Dom's face fell and his horns flushed grey-purple. “I'm sorry... I keep making these stupid assumptions.”

Astele climbed across the bed to sit next to Dom. “Yeah, well, it's not like I don't keep making stupid assumptions about Jedi, either.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “But I guess we have some time to un-assume things.”

Dom smiled and leaned his cheek on the top of her head. “I think that's the best part about being here.”

Dom could feel her return the smile, partly from her movements and partly through the Force. She took his hand in her own, and he gave it a squeeze. “Good night, Astele.”

“G'night.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gallus sprinkles a lot of Rodese phrases and interjections into his sentences. I've collected most of the official Rodese vocabulary used in canon books and movies, and used that as a base for when I need to fill in words there's no official translation for. But none of it is actually necessary to translate anyway - the meaning of everything he says is pretty obvious in context (or at least I hope it is). 
> 
> Odacer-Faustin is the location of a Sith academy from the Expanded Universe/Legends, and all the people Gallus and Astele mention are characters in the novel Red Harvest, which is one of the (many) Star Wars books I want so desperately to re-write so they don't suck. I loved every one of the Sith kids in that story, they deserved so much better than they got, so I gave them all Happy Endings instead. They're only casually mentioned here, but rest assured I've thought up much better alternate endings for all of them than what they got in the novel.


	18. In Which A Decision About Domthus Is Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domthus and our group of Sith arrive back on Bosthirda, but reunions with Lord Dirae are cut short with the impending decision of Darth Vialis looming over their heads. What will happen to Dom?

“I could tell Master Hukartl was pretty exasperated with me for just speaking up _right then_ and asking stupid questions in front of the whole assembly, without conferring with them first, but their patience was always their strongest point.” Dom's grin widened over recalling what was apparently a positive memory, to Astele's bafflement. “And patience especially with me, even when I pulled stunts like that. I honestly couldn't have asked for a better Master.”

Astele quirked one side of her mouth and slowly nodded, not really in full agreement with Dom's statement. “If you say so. They still sound pretty stuffy to me.”

Dom laughed. “Well, yeah, but Jedi Masters are almost by default always stuffy. I can count the number of them I've met that _haven't_ been stuffy on one hand.”

Astele wrinkled her nose. “Makes me glad I was born on Ord Radama instead of Bimmisaari.”

Dom nodded, smile still on his face. “I honestly can't imagine you as a Jedi, that's for sure. You'd probably be too much for any one Master to handle.”

“Good.” She grinned. “I'd have ended up turning Sith anyway.”

Dom's eyebrows shot up. “What makes you say that?”

“I dunno,” she shrugged, “I've always been the way I am. Always been passionate, always been really open about being mad or sad or happy. I can't see that changing, even if Jedi had been trying to force me down from day one.”

His smile faded just a little, and he nodded. “I'm...”

Astele cocked her head to one side. “What?”

“Nothing, I just...” Dom shook his head, a slight melancholy colouring both his words and his aura in the Force. “I guess I'm just glad you didn't have anybody that would have tried to restrain you. It... sounds like it was nice. Having that encouraged instead.”

Her ears drooped, and she patted Dom on his knee. “Hey, there's no saying you can't have that _now._ Nobody here is going to try to stop you from having actual emotions, you know.”

He let out a weak laugh. “That's not... quite what Jedi try to do, you know.”

“No?”

“N-no, they... help you learn to control them. If you don't have control over your emotions, your control over the Force will be erratic, dangerous. Someone could get hurt.”

Astele just fixed him with a quizzical stare. “That's funny, 'cause every single person I've ever known that's been Force-sensitive and untrained has been pretty harmless.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, sometimes they can sense things happening far away, have premonitions, or have unusually good reflexes, but that's hardly _world_ _shattering._ Besides, why would you try to control the Force? It's part of _nature.”_

“That's... not really what I meant.”

“Oh – well, would you –”

A light tapping on the other side of the door stopped Astele's train of thought, and Gallus's voice filtered though the metal. _“Je,_ can I come in? It's important.”

Immediately Astele waved the door open, and Gallus popped his head in. “We're nearin' Bosthirda. _Greeva_ Belus wanted me ta let ya know.”

Astele gave a significant glance to Dom, and they both jumped up from where they were sitting and followed Gallus out. All three of them crowded into the cockpit's threshold, but Erion turned from their spot in the copilot's chair to wave them away. <Wait in the common area until we have landed.>

Adrestin leaned back to give the trio a soft smile. “It will not be long. We are about to drop out of hyperspace, and it will be less than an hour before we will land. Go on, now.”

Both Astele and Gallus scowled and trudged back to the common area, Dom following behind them with more apprehension riddled across his face. He sat heavily down at the dejarik table and leaned his cheek on his hand. “Do... do you think we have time before Lord Vialis shows up?”

Gallus shrugged and threw a pointed look at Astele. _“_ _Nchtha zno ta_ _._ If anythin', he's probably already dere.”

“...Great.” Dom leaned his forehead down to bury his face in his arms, and he heaved a sigh. “I am so not ready for this.”

“You'll be fine.” Astele climbed up to sit next to him and patted his back. “Lord Belus promised you nothing bad would happen to you, right? So you have nothing to worry about.”

Gallus twitched his antennae and snorted. “Ya seem awful sure of dat, Bimm. But... _Je, nchtha zno ta...”_

“You're not helping, Gallus.” She glared at him and patted Dom once more. “Don't listen to him, Dom. Lord Belus knows better than any of us, so if he says it'll be okay, then it'll be okay.” She glanced back over at the closed door to the cockpit and swallowed hard. _I hope..._

 

* * * * * *

 

<Is the door locked?>

Adrestin nodded as he flicked some switches and slowly pulled the levers that would take the ship out of hyperspace. “It is. What did you want to say?”

Erion let out a sigh as they checked the ship's monitors one last time. <I know you are still angry with me for requesting a verdict from the Tribunal about the Jedi.>

“And I also realize why you did so. I know you are concerned for my safety and the safety of everyone aboard this ship. And I do appreciate that, though your decision is still _not_ appreciated. I think we have already hashed this out, several times.”

<We have.> Eri swiveled their chair to face Adrestin. <But that does not mean I am not on your side.>

Adrestin shook his head. “There aren't sides to this, Eri. Just strongly differing opinion. You know I –”

<That is not what I meant. I know you. If Lord Vialis comes to a decision you do not agree with, you will clash with him over it.>

“Indeed.”

<And I am trying to tell you that if it comes to blows, I will defend the life of your Jedi. But not for his sake. Because you care about him. Do not think I would _not_ do that much for you.>

Adrestin's gaze grew gentle, and he smiled at his friend. “I would never doubt your friendship or your loyalty, Eri. That is what brought you to do this in the first place, after all.”

<But if Lord Vialis deems him a potential threat... You must realize he would have reason to come to that conclusion.>

Adrestin sighed and rubbed at one of his temples. “I have considered that possibility. It does not change my intended actions regarding Domthus, though. My approach and mental state might differ, but I will not rescind my word. He will remain under my protection, regardless.”

Erion nodded, slowly. <That is probably the best I could hope for.>

“Mm.” Adrestin turned his attention to a blinking light on the dashboard. “We're coming in for our approach.”

The world of Bosthirda grew steadily larger as they neared, and slowly the shape of landforms grew distinct in their view. As they skimmed a thin veneer of clouds Adrestin inclined his head to the viewport, indicating the glinting reflection coming off of a sleek Sith ship already landed in the grass surrounding Dirae's compound. “And we already have company.”

 

* * * * * *

 

As the _Archon Red_ made its landing, Darth Dirae came out alone to meet them. She waited patiently for the loading ramp to open fully, and gave Erion and Adrestin a warm smile as they came out of the ship. “Welcome home once again, my warriors,” she purred, her voice light and liquid.

<Always good to be here, Dirae. Your apprentice is eager to be reunited.> Erion beckoned back into the ship and Gallus ducked out of the loading ramp, flanked by Astele and a very apprehensive Dom.

Dirae rushed forward to gather up Gallus in a tight embrace, spinning him once before letting him set foot on the ground again. She kissed his cheeks twice over, and pressed her forehead against his own. “You have been missed so much, my sweet Gallus... Are you hurt?”

Gallus squirmed in embarrassment over her affection, but didn't try to get away. “ _Nvtu, Greeava_ Dirae. _Grehova_ Eri an' _Greeva_ Belus fixed me right up. A lil dizzy now an' den, but I'm a'ight.”

She finally released him and nodded, her hair tendrils floating with her movement. “And I thank you once again for returning my Gallus to me. You have done me a service that I shall need a lifetime to repay.” She knelt as she spoke and opened her arms to both Astele and Dom. “And it is good to see the both of you as well. Come here, come here, my young ones.”

Astele ran up to her and threw herself in Dirae's arms. Dom slowly followed suit, horns flushing mottled purple as Dirae hugged them both. She released them and nodded again to Erion and Adrestin, her expression sober. “I can only assume it was little Dom that Lord Tarandus and Lord Vialis referred to, when they made mention of being brought in because of a Jedi. They are waiting for you inside.”

Dom's eyes widened and he glanced over at Astele, mouthing _“Two_ Sith Lords?”, but Dirae had taken his hand and all five of them were ushered inside.

The receiving room was just as beautiful as it had been when Dom had first seen it, just a few days ago. The bright afternoon sun filtered in through the semi-transparent ceiling, bathing everything in a light golden glow.

Sitting in one of the low couches was a tanned Zabrak clad all in black, and he got to his feet when the cluster of Sith and one Jedi entered. He raised a fist to his chest in formal greeting. “Greetings Lord Belus. Lord Erion. I have met either of you only briefly and before I gained title, but I am Darth Tarandus of the Sith Tribunal. Darth Vialis is my elder brother.”

Dirae came up to stand beside Adrestin, and touched his arm. “And here is where Gallus and I shall leave you.” She bowed out of the room, taking her apprentice with her.

Dom clutched Astele's hand tightly and ducked behind Adrestin's bulk, hoping he would go unnoticed for as long as possible. Erion and Adrestin both stepped forward to greet their fellow Sith, matching his salute.

Tarandus nodded to each of the Sith in turn. “When Lord Vialis received the request to come here I was already accompanying him. Though I don't know the details of the nature of the request, I chose to remain with him. Lord Dirae assures me I will not be unwelcome.”

Adrestin returned the brief bow and salute, and stepped forward. “You are most welcome, Lord Tarandus. I was under the impression that the nature of the request made it open knowledge for all of the Tribunal.”

“Lord Vialis chose to keep the information to himself. I assume his reasoning is sound.” He inclined his horned head to the main passage outside. “He returned to our ship, but will be in shortly. He –” Tarandus paused and looked just beyond Adrestin to the tiny Elomin hiding behind him, trying to be as invisible as he could. Tarandus raised an eyebrow. “Is that... a small Jedi, Lord Belus? He reeks of the Light.”

Dom paled in fear, but Adrestin tucked an arm around him and brought Dom up to stand beside him, keeping him close. “He is. And he is under my care. Such is the nature of the request for your brother's presence.”

The raised eyebrow turned into a slow smile, and Tarandus let out a short, highly amused laugh. “It is a small wonder of coincidence that it was my brother that received your request, then. How entertaining.”

Adrestin cocked his head to one side. “How so?”

Tarandus only waved it away and shook his head. His gaze fixed somewhere beyond the Sith, and he shrugged. “Oh, it will be quite apparent shortly. Here is my brother. And here I shall take my leave as well.”

As Tarandus left the room, all eyes followed to where his gaze had been directed. Though, an introduction hadn't been necessary to signify his presence – the aura of the man standing in the threshold preceded him into the room.

He was easily the largest Zabrak that Dom had ever seen, or even heard of – he could have matched Sivin for height, or even exceeded it if one counted the tall crown of spikes growing out of his head. His tattoos glinted red against his already-ruddy skin, but there were not many of them visible, for he was covered shoulder to toe in heavy plate armor. Long spikes and barbed thorns adorned every corner and edge, and as he approached the black and tan pattern etched into the metal seemed to shift and flex.

But it was his aura that made Dom cringe. The Dark Side oozed out of him like fetid pools of boiling, smokey tar. The air around him seemed cloistered and thick, and although there was no physical pressure it almost seemed hard to breathe. Even Astele shifted from foot to foot beside Dom, her discomfort obvious.

As Darth Vialis entered the room and passed them by, he ignored both Astele and Dom but nodded once to both Adrestin and Erion before settling himself on one of the couches. “It has been long, Darth Belus. Darth Erion. Sit. Talk.”

They both nodded in turn and obeyed his command, one significant look from Erion the only thing both Astele and Dom needed to stay put where they were at the edge of the room. <I thank you for coming at my request, Lord Vialis.>

“Mm.” Vialis flicked his eyes up and down Erion, eyes narrowing at their repulsor harness and metal arm. “You are maimed.”

<A result of our last mission. It was in my full report.>

Vialis only grunted in response, and turned his attention to Adrestin. “You have a matter that needs addressing. Speak.”

Adrestin inclined his head and began to say something, but before he could utter a word a small flutter of motion from the doorway drew everyone's attention.

Peeking around the threshold of the door was what appeared to be a small, frail Omwati. His thin, willowy build was a hair's breadth shorter than Dom, and his pale blue skin made him seem almost translucent. Long fingers gripped the frame of the door, and large eyes tentatively scanned the room for approval to enter. His eyes fastened on Vialis, and he cocked his head in silent question.

Instead of crushing the tiny man with a dismissive blow of the Force, Vialis merely shrugged one shoulder and focused his attention back on Adrestin. But the little Omwati flashed a smile and trotted into the room, gaze flicking back and forth from face to face in curiosity. But then he saw Dom, and at once he visibly brightened. And in the _Force,_ as well. The Light Side shone from him like an early morning sunrise, warm and bright. He ran up to Dom with a smile on his face. “Why, it's been years since I've seen one of my own! Hi there! It's so good to meet you!” He clasped one of Dom's hands in both of his own as he beamed at him, glowing even brighter in the Force. “How are things back home? I haven't been to Temple in _so_ long. Did they re-align the garden landscaping? They had been debating that last time I was there.”

Dom blinked in surprise and just stared at the man with an open mouth. “I – I'm Domthus... uh – hello...”

Adrestin, Erion, and Astele all had similar reactions, and looked from one to the other in flabbergasted confusion. Vialis still cooly regarded Adrestin, apparently still waiting for a response to his command.

But the little Omwati Jedi finally caught on that he was drawing attention, and he looked up from Dom with a sheepish smile on his face. “Oh, I'm sorry – where are my manners?” He glanced from the others back to Dom. “My name is Syr-Dae Kelara. It's a pleasure to meet you. I am, well, I was – well, I suppose you'll want to know why I'm here, it's a little –”

Vialis cut him off with a clearing of his throat. “Syr-Dae is the sole surviving member of a Jedi raiding party on my world. Several years ago. He was captured. He has been by my side ever since.” He gestured for Syr-Dae to approach, and the Jedi readily came up to him. He sat down beside Vialis and gazed up at him with an affectionate smile.

Vialis curled an arm around him and shrugged. “If he still qualifies as a prisoner, he certainly has a long leash.”

Syr-Dae blushed a rosy violet at the comment and flicked his gaze back over to Dom, his smile widening. Dom still stood open-mouthed, and Astele nudged him from behind. She whispered in his ear, amusement bubbling through. “They're lovers.”

“I can _see_ that,” he whispered back, “shut _up_ before you get us in trouble.”

But Vialis had already focused his attention on them. “You. Jedi. Come here.”

Dom flinched and started to shake, but regardless of whether he intended on complying or not he felt himself being pulled inexorably towards where Vialis sat. He stumbled to get his feet under him, and hastened to obey. He came to a stop a few feet from the menacing Sith, shaking violently and quite sure his knees would give out any moment.

Vialis's gaze on him was harsh and piercing, and Dom felt cold all over. But Vialis only waved him over to the spot next to Adrestin. “Sit.”

Dom immediately complied. Adrestin rested a gentle hand on his shoulder, and for the first time Dom felt Adrestin's own presence roiling in the Dark Side of the Force as something comforting.

Vialis's eyes were still on Dom, scrutinizing him from head to toe. Dom could feel his presence in the Force pressing against his mind, invading memories and rifling through emotions. Dom tensed, bracing himself for the worst. But Vialis merely snorted and directed his words to Adrestin. “I received Erion's transmission explaining your situation. I do not see any problem with you keeping your own pet Jedi. If he is controlled. But he does not appear to be hostile. Or difficult.”

Dom flushed a dozen different shades of purple over being called a 'pet Jedi', and Adrestin allowed himself to smile at Vialis. “He is hardly a pet, my Lord. I just wish to ensure his safety.”

Vialis merely grunted. “As long as he is under supervision, it matters not.”

<Even though he is formerly BrightWatch?>

Vialis raised an eyebrow, and Adrestin turned with narrowed eyes to Erion. “A division he was ejected from, with an alternative of death.” He said, cautiously.

Vialis's harsh gaze flicked from Erion to Adrestin, and he suddenly rose from his seat. “Erion. Speak with me. Privately.” He strode to an opposite corner of the room, and Erion followed.

Dom glanced at Syr-Dae, who shrugged helplessly in equal confusion. But Adrestin gently squeezed Dom's shoulder. “You will be protected, Dom. I've promised you that.”

Vialis waited for Erion to float up to him, and turned so no one else in the room would overhear their conversation. “You have concerns.”

Erion nodded. <I do. Lord Belus normally is an excellent judge of character. But I fear his judgment on this matter is clouded.>

“You have concern that the Jedi will turn on him.”

Erion hesitated, but slowly shook their head. <I... am unsure why I feel he is a threat. But he was BrightWatch. And is still a Jedi. This makes me wary.>

“Mm.” Vialis turned for a moment to regard Dom once again before turning back to Erion. “Spend time with him, then. If he is a threat, it will manifest. And you will be prepared. If he is not a threat, it will be obvious.” He turned and strode back to the couch without another word. He extended a hand to Syr-Dae, who readily took it and got to his feet.

“You have my permission and permission from the Tribunal to keep your Jedi,” Vialis said as he nodded to Adrestin. “Keep him in check.” He didn't bother with any closing remarks, only turned to leave.

Syr-Dae waved at Dom as he trotted along after Vialis. “It was nice to meet you! We'll probably meet again – goodbye!”

Dom waited until the door slid shut behind the menacing Sith and the bubbly Jedi before he blew out the breath he'd been holding. “What – _was_ that?”

Adrestin shook his head slowly, and rubbed Dom's shoulder. “There are Jedi in Sith space, and Sith in Jedi space I would venture, all over the galaxy, Dom. I am not the only one to have developed a soft spot for some of those on the other side of our conflict.”

“I... I guess not.”

Adrestin tilted his head down at Dom. “What is it?”

“I just... He felt so _different._ I mean... you're – you're _scary,_ and... so is he, but... in a different way. How can Syr-Dae be around him and be so happy?”

Adrestin laughed, and he just shrugged. “There was a time not many hours ago, when you could barely meet my gaze, Domthus. And yet you trust me this far, now. Imagine what several years together can do for getting to know someone. And I am sure that Syr-Dae sees a side of Lord Vialis that we would never be privy to witness, just as you see a side of me that only those I deem friends and family can see.”

The purple mottling on Dom's horns grew deeper, and he ducked his head down with an awkward smile. “I... I suppose so.”

“It gives you something to think on. But I believe now a little release of some of that stress is in order. Perhaps you and Astele could go find Gallus and introduce him to the tuk'ata you made friends with the last time we were here? He has not been home in a long time.”

Dom nodded, smile growing a little wider.

“Go on, then.” Adrestin gently pushed him up off the couch and towards where Astele still stood by the door. “Have fun. I will call you for dinner.”

Dom got up and started towards Astele, but stopped and turned halfway there. “...Adrestin?”

“Hm?”

“...Thank you. For everything.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vialis and Syr-Dae have their own shamelessly self-indulgent story, but I've never posted it because it is the textbook definition of bad fanfiction and includes all of the terribad awful tropes that no one is supposed to like or approve of, so. There's that.  
> We don't see much of them in this story anyway, so it's not particularly relevant to the plot. I just couldn't resist including them since all of my OCs do live in the same slightly-AU (UA?) universe, after all. \o/


	19. In Which There Is Extensive Dialogue Between Jedi And Sith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom has been settling in nicely with all of the Sith living at Lord Dirae’s compound. All except one.

 

Six weeks went by on Bosthirda, time seeming to fly with the changing of seasons. Local summer was drawing to a close – the morning air had turned crisp and the nights were filled with blustery winds. It wouldn't be long before the frost would come, and soon after would follow the snow. But for now the afternoons were still glittering with sunshine and warm breezes, and the air filled itself with the dancing wisps of grass seeds.

The tuk'ata whelp Jucada tore through the tall patches of grass, leaping into the air from the tops of the rolling hills at Gallus's prompting to glide on his vestigial wings. Dom sat behind the Rodian, clinging to his waist and laughing with glee every time Jucada launched them skyward. Every now and again Astele glanced up from her lesson and watched them run through the grass, but every time she did so Erion snapped at her and directed her attention back to where Adrestin stood, one of his lightsabers ignited and scaled back in power to cast a barely pink glow over their sparring attempt.

<Apprentice! Keep your attention focused! Or I shall tell them to leave.>

“Aw, Master Eri, don't do that. It'd ruin their fun!” She pouted, but resolutely raised her own blade to once again touch against Adrestin's.

<Then keep your attention where it is needed most.>

She sighed. “Yes, Master...”

Erion brought their own blade up as well, almost white with its power turned down to training levels. They nodded once to Adrestin, who slowly paced around Astele.

“Engaging two opponents in combat at once can be challenging, especially since you will often have a distinct size disadvantage. I would recommend starting with Soresu, to gauge all of your opponents before attempting more aggressive strikes.”

Astele scowled as her eyes followed Adrestin, flicking occasionally over to Erion as they hovered near her periphery. “I _hate_ using Soresu.”

“I know, but it has its uses.” He made a short lunge, which Astele easily blocked before tumbling ninety degrees to parry a thrust from her Master. Adrestin nodded in approval. “Very good. Use your small size to your advantage. Incorporating Lus-ma techniques would also be useful, particularly if you are engaging Jedi. They tend to match Form III to Form III, but Lus-ma often trips them up.”

Astele nodded, giving her blade a little flourish before engaging Adrestin again. He met her attack and thrust back with a little more force, enough to propel Astele backwards towards Erion. But she ducked low, practically flattening out on the ground to avoid the sweep of her Master's blade and slid beneath their repulsor harness. She brought her blade up just in time to meet Erion's renewed attack, a grin spreading across her face. “Smaller _and_ faster.”

Adrestin chuckled, but shook his head. “Do not underestimate a larger opponent's speed.” In a split second he charged forward and vaulted over Erion, coming at Astele from above.

Her eyes went wide and she rolled sideways just in time to avoid Adrestin's landing. Using a slab of rock beside her as a handhold, she spring-boarded into the air to avoid a sweeping blow from Adrestin's lightsaber. She swung high with her own, and Adrestin had to lean back to avoid getting a training blade to his face. “Excellent, utilizing Sokan as well. You are bringing your lessons together quite nicely.”

Astele broke out into a toothy grin as she made her landing, well away from both Adrestin and Erion's blades. “I _do_ actually listen, you know.”

<You show great improvement in a very short time, Apprentice.>

Her grin grew wider, and she beamed at her Master before glancing up at the sky. “Hey wait, is that Gallus and Dirae's transport?”

Both Erion and Adrestin followed her gaze, and Erion nodded. <It is. We should see them off.>

“Agreed.” Adrestin extinguished his blade and waved to the pair on the tuk'ata across the field. “Gallus! Your ride is here!”

The Rodian waved in acknowledgment, and the tuk'ata slowed to a halt as his two passengers slid to the ground. Gallus jogged up to pass Adrestin and gestured towards the door as he made his way inside. “I'll go grab our bags. _Greeava!_ The transport is here!”

In moments Dirae came out with a small bag in hand, with Gallus trailing along behind her with several more in his arms and two more levitating behind him. She nodded at both Adrestin and Erion. “I trust my home will be well taken care of in your capable hands while we are gone, Lord Belus, Lord Erion. Thank you once again for volunteering as caretakers.”

Adrestin gave her a smile. “Your home is a second home to both Erion and I, Lord Dirae. And it is only for a mere two standard weeks. You have gone on much longer sojourns before. A milestone and a birthday is an opportunity you cannot pass by.”

She returned his smile. “Gallus is so excited. His whole family is gathering for the celebration. I am pleased that they requested my presence as well.” She moved to embrace both Adrestin and Erion, kissing each of them on the cheek before moving towards the slowly-lowering ramp of the transport. “When we return, my sweet Darth Gallus will be a full-fledged _Goa Leenak_. I am so proud. Now where are Astele and Domthus? I cannot leave without a goodbye.”

Both Astele and Dom were already beside the ramp to the transport, giving Gallus his farewells. Dirae swept in to gather them all in a hug before they made their way up the ramp. As it began to lift them into the ship, Dirae turned and waved once more to Adrestin. “Oh, and what we discussed last night, Lord Belus? You have my permission. I shall see you in two weeks. Goodbye!”

The ramp closed up into the ship, and the four remaining Sith and Jedi waved to the ship as it rose up into the atmosphere. Astele elbowed Dom and grinned up at the transport. “He's going to have one hell of a party when he gets home. Becoming a full Hunter is a big deal in Rodian society.”

“Yeah? I thought he already was one.” Dom continued to wave, half imagining he could see Gallus and Dirae in one of the tiny porthole windows as the transport rose higher into the sky. “He's already really good at it.”

“He is, but you can't become a real Hunter, like, as a title, _Goa Leenak,_ until you turn twenty-six. So this just makes it all fancy and official. There's a ceremony and everything. It's usually restricted to Rodians only, but since Dirae is his Master, they want her there too. It's a big honor.”

Dom squinted up at the sky, still trying to keep track of the pin-prick that the transport had faded to. “Heh, almost makes me wish I could go too.”

Astele grinned at him, full of teeth. “If it's a party you want, Dom, just wait a half standard year. Then it'll be _my_ birthday, and my _whole family_ will come to Bosthirda then. It'll be _real_ party. I can't _wait_ for you to meet all of them.”

Dom gave her a nervous smile. “Aha. Heh. Yeah, that's great Astele, aren't there like... _twenty_ Sith in your family?”

“Twenty-two, if you count the twins. But that's not official yet.”

“Ha, yeah, great. Twenty-two Sith. That's... anyway, yeah, uh... wait, both you _and_ Gallus know when your actual birthday is? That's really cool.”

Astele cocked her head to one side and quirked an eyebrow. “How is that really cool? Doesn't almost everybody know their birthday?”

Dom shrugged. “I don't. I mean, it doesn't really matter, I guess. The start of a standard year is pretty much the only indication the Jedi need of getting another year older.”

Astele blinked. “That's... kind of awful.”

“Awful? Nah, it's supposed to help.” Dom shrugged again. “It would just be another distraction to get attached to if it were otherwise.”

Astele's ears flattened back and she set her jaw as she grabbed Dom by his wrist and dragged him over to where Adrestin and Erion were talking quietly. “Come on, Dom. We're getting this sorted out. Right. Now.”

“Wait, what? Astele, what are you talking about?”

“Lord Belus!”

Erion shook their head. <Do not interrupt, Apprentice –>

“This is _important,_ Master Eri.” She almost stomped her foot in impatience, a scowl deepening over her face.

Adrestin turned, the eyebrows over one set of eyes raised at the furious look on Astele. “What's wrong?”

“What was the exact standard calendar date that our mission to the Sith shrine went sour?”

“What – well, that is an odd request... let's see, it was...”

Dom huffed and tried to twist his arm from Astele's vice grip. “I have no idea what she's going on about. Why do you need to know that? What does that have to do with –”

She just shook her head emphatically, scowl still set on her face as she stared up at Adrestin. “Dom doesn't even know when his own birthday is. So whenever we were at the Sith shrine is going to be his birthday.”

Adrestin's other set of eyebrows shot up, and Erion crossed their arms, once again shaking their head. <That is hardly important enough to merit interrupting, Apprentice.>

“It _is,_ Master. The Jedi took it from him, and now he needs a new one. So what was the date?”

Dom finally wrenched himself free and waved his hands in a halting gesture. “Wait, wait, why the _stars_ would you want such a disaster to be my birthday? It was _terrible_ there.”

Astele's scowl dropped, and was replaced with a baffled gape. “Well, duh. Don't be stupid. Because that's the day that I _met_ you. What could be better?”

Dom stared at her in surprise, and slowly raised a hand to cover his mouth. He had to blink rapidly to keep sudden tears from welling up, and he managed a nod. “That... that's perfect, Astele. Thank you. I... don't know what else to say.”

Adrestin pulled a scrap of paper from a pocket and scribbled a note on it before handing it to Astele. “This is the date. I will be sure to put it on the calendar in the _Archon Red_ so we will be sure to remember to celebrate.”

Satisfied, Astele nodded and took the note before pulling Dom away, idly wondering aloud why he was suddenly trying not to cry. Both Adrestin and Erion watched them go, and once they were out of earshot Erion shrugged. <And the Jedi becomes even more entrenched in our lives.>

“It's not such a bad thing, is it?” Adrestin's eyes were still on the pair as they waded through the tall grass, Dom suddenly breaking out into laughter at something Astele had said.

Slowly, Erion shook their head. <At present, it does not appear to be, no. But Astele has already conveniently forgotten about the rest of her lightsaber lesson.>

“Mm.” Adrestin grinned down at his friend. “In her defense, I did as well.”

<That does not help matters, Lord Belus,> Erion said dryly, but the corners of their eyes crinkled up around the edges.

“Perhaps I should go fetch your apprentice and finish the lesson, and in the meantime might I suggest something?”

<What is that?>

“Perhaps you and Dom could talk? You had mentioned that Lord Vialis suggested spending time with Dom to ascertain any possible threat level, but honestly you have gone well out of your way to avoid him ever since. It's been nearly two months.”

Erion's smile faded behind their mask and they shook their head. <I have little I wish to talk about with a Jedi.>

“So don't talk to Domthus the _Jedi._ Talk to Domthus, Astele's newest friend and Belus's timid companion, the one who believes all of Gallus's stories no matter how embellished, and the one who willingly puts up with Dirae's doting. Talk to the Domthus who left everything he has ever known behind because he tried to stand up for friends he didn't even know he had yet, simply because he believed it was the right thing to do. I am sure there is a lot you could say. And perhaps a lot he could tell you as well.”

Erion heaved a sigh, but raised their hands in defeat. <All right. All _right._ I will talk with him. But if I do not like what he says, you will hear about it. In detail. >

Adrestin refrained from rolling his eyes, and gestured to the spot where Astele and Dom had disappeared. “I am sure. I will go fetch Astele, and send Dom your way.”

<No, I will find him myself. Just finish Astele's lesson.>

Adrestin gave Erion a quizzical look, but nodded slowly. “Of course.”

 

* * * * *

 

Dom waded slowly through waist-high grass, running the palms of his hands over the nodding heads full of seeds as he walked. It had only been minutes since Adrestin had come to fetch Astele back to her lesson, and now that Gallus was gone as well he found himself a little restless already. He thought he had glimpsed Erion hovering nearby just in the corner of his peripheral vision, but when he had turned to see, no one was there. He had that uncanny tingling on the back of his neck as though he were being watched, but when he stretched out his senses with the Force the only being nearby that he could sense was the tuk'ata whelp, Jucada. He was lying on a rocky outcrop just ahead, beside a low crooked tree that had already shed most of its leaves in anticipation of the coming season. Dom made his way towards the creature, and climbed up to sit on the rock next to him.

“Hey there, boy.” Dom reached out a hand to rub his snout, and Jucada leaned into his hand in greeting. “Maybe after dinner we can go for a ride with Astele? You like that?”

Jucada grunted what sounded like a happy affirmative to Dom's ears, and he smiled. “But for now we have to wait. So it's just you and me for a bit.”

Jucada flopped over on one side and stretched, and Dom took one of his massive paws in his hands, petting the fur over his toes. “Ready for one of my weird Jedi confessions, buddy?”

A single “mmrrph” was his only response, and Dom chuckled as he released his paw and started to scratch his nose again. “I'll take that as a yes. Just don't let this get back to the others, okay? I don't like being more of a burden than I already am, and Astele was just so _happy_ about it, I couldn't bring her down with more of my fretting.”

He turned and leaned against the tuk'ata's chest, casting his gaze up to the slowly drifting wisps of clouds in the sky. “So, I have a birthday now. And I'm probably not _supposed_ to be so... I dunno, so touched and excited about it, but I _am,_ and could it... _really_ be such a bad thing? It's like... one more thing that makes me feel like I... well, like I almost belong here. I know I _don't,_ but... can it _really_ be all that bad to get attached to people? And want friends and a family?” He reached over to rub behind one of Jucada's ears. “I really, really love it here. Even if not everybody here actually wants me around, I'm still the happiest I've ever been in my life.”

Jucada _rawp_ ed at him, and tilted his head to one side. Dom laughed and gently tugged at the hair underneath his chin. “You don't have to ask why I feel _guilty_ about that, I already know it's stupid.” He sighed. “I don't... really miss much about the Jedi Temple. And I know I _should,_ but... even Lord Erion is nicer to me and expects fewer impossible things than the Jedi Masters back at temple did. And I _know_ I'm invading Erion's space and it can't be very comfortable for them to have a Jedi here that they don't even like. But they still tolerate me.” He shook his head. “I can't think of anything I can do to make it better for them, though. I mean, other than just staying out of their way and trying not to piss them off too badly. But it's not really enough, is it Jucada?”

The tuk'ata had nothing to say to that, only pecked at a loose stone on the ground before flicking his ears up at a rustle in the grass near the tree. Dom shrugged. “I know. I can't really repay Erion for their tolerance. I wouldn't even know where to start trying, even though I want to.”

Dom only then became aware of the whirr of Erion's repulsor harness, and he looked up to see them approach from the grass beside the tree. <You could start by saying this kind of thing to my face.>

Dom scrambled to his feet, his horns mottling a deeper purple in flustered awkwardness. “I'm sorry, I didn't – I didn't know you were there, and sorry for not saying anything, I just – shit, I'm sorry –”

Erion snorted and their respirator clicked with their irritation as they waved away Dom's words. <It is unnecessary. You should not be so ready to debase yourself with apologies. It's pathetic.>

Dom hung his head. “I'm...”

<Sorry?> Erion rolled their eyes.

Dom heaved a sigh of exasperation and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Auuugh. I'm so stupid. I can't win for losing, can I?”

<You try too hard.>

“Yeah, I know.” Dom nodded in agreement. “It's a big problem of mine, always has been. I shouldn't be trying at all, I know.”

Erion regarded Dom with a scrutinizing stare. <What do you mean?>

“Oh, um. 'Do, or do not. There is no try.' It's one of the things they drill into us as Padawans. But I never... really got it.” He shifted uncomfortably under Erion's sharp gaze.

<That is a load of bantha shit,> Erion scoffed, <Jedi dogma, setting you up to fail so you end up holding yourself hostage to receiving their nod of approval. It succeeds only in making the Masters of your Order feel superior to their underlings.>

Dom blinked. “How does that...”

<Does it not?> Erion crossed their arms and studied Dom's face. <Telling you that you can only succeed, and there is no other option? It forces you to be dependent on your Master and the Order to tell you what your own goals should be, and when you have reached them. It is not a proverb or a nugget of wisdom. It is a calculated control tactic.>

Dom's eyes were wide. “I... never thought of it that way. I just thought it was yet another mystical something that the Order said to make themselves sound deep, I guess.”

Erion raised an eyebrow. <You do not sound as though you truly believe what the Jedi have told you.>

Suddenly even more awkward, Dom shifted his weight from foot to foot and scratched the back of his head. “I haven't... well I haven't really known what to believe for months now, but the Jedi were all I've ever known. Until I met Astele, and you and Adrestin, and everyone else.”

<Really.> Erion's sharp stare narrowed. <And what has changed now?>

Dom shrugged helplessly. “I don't really know. The only thing I know is that everyone is _happy_ here. That... that _I'm_ happy here, and that here, no one seems conflicted or guilt-ridden, or even self-righteous and snobby. Everyone's just... relaxed. Nobody puts on airs or pretends to be more knowledgeable or more skilled or powerful than they actually are. It's... refreshing.” He pursed his lips and frowned, confusion all over his face. “Is that a Sith thing?”

One corner of Erion's face twitched as though they were trying not to crack a smile, and instead they shook their head. <No. Sith are just as prone to exaggeration, delusions of grandeur, and pretension as the Jedi. Such things are simply sentient nature.>

“Oh.”

<Here, we all just have decent heads on our shoulders. That is all.>

Dom smiled. “I'm glad of it. Astele is so lucky to have had this all her life. To have all of you.”

<Mm.>

The two lapsed into an awkward silence, and Dom sat back down on the outcrop to scratch at Jucada's nose. He suddenly looked up at Erion. “Is there anything I can do that would help?”

<What do you mean by 'help'?>

“Well... I mean,” Dom shrugged again, “I know you don't like me. I'm pretty sure it's because I'm a Jedi, and I know I can't change the fact that I _am_ one, or... was one, or... whatever, that's still up in the air. But I mean. Is there anything I should be aware of so I can just stay out of your way? I don't want to make you uncomfortable if I can help it, particularly since this is your home, not mine, no matter how much I wish I could be a part of it.”

Erion frowned. <And where, Jedi, do you think home is?>

Dom's expression faded to a sad, resigned smile. “...A few months ago, I would have said the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. But... it's pretty evident that I don't really have a home. And probably never have.”

<Hn. How did you come to that conclusion?>

“Well... I feel guilty for thinking this, but I can't help but know it's true anyway...” He sighed and dropped his gaze to the ground. “The Jedi Order obviously doesn't need me or want me. And they... they so easily threw me away when I became difficult, when I said the wrong thing, and... if I truly had a home there, with the Order, that wouldn't have happened.” He looked back up at Erion, his white eyes glossy. “...Would it? They didn't... they don't actually care, do they? Not really.” He wiped furiously at his eyes and let out a humorless laugh. “You know, I'm strangely glad that Teraia and Master Hukartl didn't survive, because this way I'll never have to hear such things from _them,_ at least. I didn't have to get thrown out by _them._ That's pretty selfish, isn't it?”

Erion shook their head. <If that is selfish, there is nothing wrong with it.> They maneuvered their repulsor harness to hover down beside Dom on the rock. <If the Jedi so readily abandoned _you,_ perhaps you should consider abandoning _them_ as well. They obviously have not done you any good. What are you so afraid of losing, that you still cling to calling yourself a Jedi? >

Once again Dom dropped his head, and slowly shook it. “I don't... I don't know. I know the Order doesn't want me back, but... to just turn my back on them, like they did to me? I... I just know I'm not ready to do that. Not... not yet. I may never be strong enough. I just don't know.”

<And what if they asked you back?>

A wan smile flickered over Dom's face even as he still stared at the ground. “Realistically, I know they wouldn't waste their time doing something like that, but... even if they did, hypothetically, ask for me back, I don't know if I could.” He picked at his own fingernails, not wanting to look Erion in the eyes. “The more I'm away from them, the more I see of better ways, better lives. Knowing what I do now, even though it's still admittedly very little, I... I don't think I _could_ go back. I just... I don't know. I _don't know.”_

Erion watched Dom stare at his own hands, and slowly they reached out to lightly grip Dom's shoulder. <There is nothing wrong with not knowing. It's... a start. At any rate.> They quickly jerked away and coughed. <Astele and Adrestin have finished her lesson by now. Dinner will soon follow. Go get cleaned up.>

They rose on their repulsor and immediately made for the house, leaving Dom to sit there with the tuk'ata looking dazed and confused. Dom shrugged before patting Jucada on the nose one last time. “That was... weird. But maybe they don't hate me as much as I thought? I... I guess we'll see.” He shook himself off and made his own way back to the house.

 

* * * * * *

 

“A mission?” Dom cocked his head to one side as he heaped another spoonful of roasted vweliu nuts onto his plate. “What kind of mission?”

Astele looked from Dom to her master as she swirled her spoon in her food. “Can I tell him, or...”

Erion shrugged and pointed a finger at Dom. <I should not have to tell you that our missions are often covert, and thus beyond discussing. But this one is not classified as sensitive. There is a Sith colony world close to the border. Mostly families, farmers. It has been raided twice this past year. There is suspicion it is not simply pirates. I am to make a preliminary investigation, and report my findings. I am bringing Astele with. I estimate we will be gone a few days.>

“Oh, I see.” Dom nodded, looking from Erion to Astele and back. “When do you leave?”

<Tonight.>

Adrestin smiled dryly across the table. “After dinner, of course. Erion always has priorities.”

<Shut up.>

Both Dom and Adrestin grinned at that before returning to their food. Astele bounced in her seat, feet swinging. “I'm really excited to go, though. It's been _so long_ since we've done anything _interesting.”_

“Six whole weeks of domesticity is enough to last Astele a lifetime,” Adrestin chuckled. “Would you like to take the _Archon Red,_ Eri? I know you have your fighter stashed away here, but if Astele is coming along, it would give you more room.”

Erion shook their head. <My fighter has its passenger pod. We will be fine.>

Astele rolled her eyes. “You know, you're lucky I'm a Bimm or I wouldn't even fit in that thing. It's so _cramped.”_

<You will live.> Erion lightly tapped her nose in mild reprimand before turning back to Adrestin. <Though. There is the possibility that if it is not pirates, we will need to set up a defense position.>

Adrestin nodded, and flicked one pair of eyes to Dom. “I will happily volunteer my services if you believe the colony requires more powerful defense. And I believe Dom might also benefit from coming along, if the need arises. The choice is his, of course.”

Dom startled, but mumbled a tentative affirmative into a mouthful of food. The thought of visiting a Sith colony gave him all kinds of feelings of trepidation, but he didn't voice his concerns.

Erion merely grunted a reply as well. <I do not know what to expect, as of yet. We will know more once we scope it out. I will let you know when I return.>

“Of course. In the meantime, I have cheffa custard for dessert.”

As the rest of the table clamored for fresh bowls, Dom sat there studying the last few spoonfuls on his plate, his appetite suddenly gone. A Sith _colony?_ It was not like he was particularly social here on Bosthirda, even. He had never been to Jerunga, the only sizable city on the planet, and the only Sith he had really interacted with outside of those living at Dirae's compound had been that single visit with Darth Vialis and Darth Tarandus. And that had been terrifying enough... what could possibly await him at a whole colony filled with Sith, and why would Adrestin want him there?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …If you thought this story was going to be primarily about Sivin and Adrestin, you were kind of wrong. I mean, it IS about them, kind of, just not… ALL about them. Dom's relationship with all of these Sith is just as important as Sivin's, and since he's the one with them right now he's getting more screentime. It won't be long before we cut back to Sivin, though.


	20. In Which There Is Lightsaber Practice And Then They Take A Walk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gallus and Dirae have left for a celebration, and Erion and Astele have just been sent off on a mission, leaving Adrestin and Dom alone at the compound on Bosthirda. But that doesn't mean there's nothing to do...

 

Two days had passed since Erion and Astele had set off for the Sith colony world, leaving Adrestin and Dom alone at Dirae's compound. Dom hadn't drawn up the courage to ask Adrestin about the potential of going to the colony world yet, and instead he had taken to long walks after meals, and had even attempted to ride Jucada by himself earlier this morning. That had ended in an undignified landing and some bruised knees. It had taken him nearly half the afternoon to persuade Jucada he was okay, and assure him that Dom didn't need his snout ramming into his back every half a minute to ensure he stayed upright.

But now it was about two hours before sunset and Dom found himself wandering through the grassy fields, enjoying the brilliance of the reddening sky. He ducked around a small copse of stunted trees at the top of a hill, revealing a long slope down to a stream cutting through a wide meadow filled with autumn flowers.

And in that meadow was Adrestin, both lightsabers burning red-orange as he held them in his hands. All four of his eyes were closed as he made slow turns, going through the basic training motions of Form I. As Dom watched, he fluidly moved from Form I to Form II, and worked his way up through all the lightsaber styles in something reminiscent of a slow-motion dance. Dom inched his way closer until he was at the edge of the meadow and stood there among the flowers as he stared, fascinated.

Adrestin was _flowing_ with the Force. Dom could practically see its currents and eddies in the air, among the trees, through the ground, and right into and through Adrestin himself. He was moving with its ebb and flow, letting the Force guide his motion even as he harnessed its power, performing all the correct steps for all of the forms. And then when he reached the end, he began with flourishes of his own, his speed adjusting with the strength and power of his thrusts and parries. Dom stared open-mouthed as he felt the Force respond in kind to Adrestin's own movement within it, sweeping him along even as he retained control over his motion.

The Dark Side was _strong_ with him. Its cold, harsh power lingered around every cord and muscle, curling in eddies of its own within Adrestin's blood and bone. Though his eyes were closed, Dom could make out a thin glow of red behind Adrestin's scaly lids, bright with the power of the Dark Side. Dom shivered, but couldn't tear his eyes away. Time seemed to slow down as he watched, though it could not have been more than an hour.

And with as much slow grace as he had started, Adrestin's dance was done. He finished with a flourish that extinguished both blades and returned them to their hilts at his side in one fluid motion, and his eyes opened. Almost immediately, his gaze fastened on Dom.

Dom's eyes went wide and his horns flushed three different shades of mottled purple. He started to back away towards the copse of trees, embarrassed at being caught staring at what was quite obviously meant to be a private practice session.

But Adrestin waved him over. “Come here, Dom. Have you been waiting long?”

Slowly Dom approached, wishing fervently he had taken to wearing a hooded robe so he could have something to hide his face in. “I – I wasn't waiting – I mean, I didn't mean to interrupt. I was just... uh...”

Adrestin approached him, gentle smile on his face even as his eyes glowed fiery yellow and red. He leaned forward to run a thumb over one of Dom's mottled horns and cocked his head down at him. “No need for embarrassment, I do not mind if you watch me practice.”

A new shade of purple coloured Dom's horns, and he ducked his head down to stare at the flowers on the ground. “I've... never seen anything like that before.”

“If I am able, I try to begin and end each day with the same blade routine. It may be simple and basic introductory moves, but such things form the core of the entire art of the lightsaber. I never wish to forget their importance.”

Dom flashed him a shy, awkward grin. “That was – _really_ far from simple and basic. It was really beau– I mean, it was amazing.”

Adrestin's smile grew just a little, but he merely nodded in thanks for the compliment.

Dom's eyes cast down again, and this time they fixed on Adrestin's blades at his sides. He hesitated for a moment, his hand going to his own hilt by his hip. “Would you...”

“Hm?” Adrestin leaned down and tilted his head to try and catch Dom's eye. “What is it, Dom?”

“Is... Well. Um.” He still refused to meet Adrestin's gaze. “Is... is that offer of teaching me how to be confident with two blades still open?”

Adrestin's smile widened, and he gently tucked a hand under Dom's chin to tilt his head up to look at him. “Always.”

Once again Dom's horns mottled in colour, but he swallowed hard and returned Adrestin's smile with a flash of his own. “Would – would you start showing me some things?”

“My pleasure, Dom. Where do you wish to start?”

“I... um.” Once again he felt sheepish, but this time he didn't look away. “Could we start at the very beginning? Pretend like I've never picked up two blades together at all?”

Adrestin nodded. “Of course.” He glanced down to Dom's side. “Do you have both of your blades with you?”

This time, Dom couldn't help but avert his eyes. He shook his head. “I... I don't usually keep my second blade with me. It's back in my room.”

“That's alright, you can use one of these.” He drew a small satchel from his side and pulled a nondescript silver cylinder from inside. “I am in the habit of carrying extra training blades on the off-chance that Astele might be feeling particularly spirited at any given moment and in need of something to channel her extra energy into. It has proven useful on more than one occasion.” He handed the saber to Dom. “It is already scaled back in power. If you would do the same with your own, we can begin. What forms did you study the most, at the Jedi Temple?”

Dom complied and adjusted the power on his own lightsaber before holding them out, unlit. “Niman. I never really wanted to focus on combat, so that's what they started me out with. How do you want me to stand?”

“Niman is a good approach for you then. It is fortunate that it was adapted from dual-blade techniques at its conception. We will begin with the most basic introductory lesson, and start with posture and stance. Here.” He adjusted Dom's grip on the blades, then shifted each of his arms into their correct positions for a slightly-modified Niman opening stance. He nudged Dom's hip. “Slide your feet just a fraction further apart, your balance will center itself much better.”

Dom obeyed, his head a little giddy and hands already slightly shaky, partly because of his nerves about the session itself, but also because of Adrestin's proximity. But his balance certainly _did_ seem better with the slight adjustment, and he flashed Adrestin a nervous grin.

Adrestin nodded in approval. “Good. Your natural posture is already excellent, which will lend itself quite well to any form adjustment. Light your blades when you're ready.”

Dom nodded, and the _snap-hiss_ of the igniting lightsabers echoed dimly through the meadow. His own blade was powered down to the palest of greens, and the training blade itself shone colourless. He hefted both their weights in his hands, getting the feel for each of them together without breaking his stance.

Adrestin walked slowly in a circle around him. “Niman's starting positions are often quite open but not overextended. But when using a single blade I am sure you have noticed sometimes being that open is a grave disadvantage. This is where a second blade makes Niman more complete. Do you notice the difference it makes?”

“It's... more protected. My stance is, I mean.” Dom nodded, trying _very_ hard to focus on the blades themselves and not the breath of Adrestin as he neared beside him to slightly adjust the angle of his wrist.

“Yes, precisely. Here. Keeping your hand in line with the rest of your arm gives you more strength with your first sweep.” He moved to stand beside Dom and matched his stance. Igniting his own blades, his scales almost glittered in their barely-orange glow. “I'm going to walk you through the basic steps of an introductory Niman practice session, only this time we're doing it with the two blades instead of just the one. I will guide your strokes.”

Together, they went through the steps of the very first lesson Dom ever remembered about using lightsabers, only this time he absorbed every word and motion as if he were a sponge. Not once did Adrestin scold or reprimand for distraction, he only waited until Dom was ready before continuing to the next step. They only covered a bare minimum of information – basic form, gauging striking distance, simple footwork – but it felt like a wealth of new knowledge to Dom.

By the time they were finished, the last rays of the setting sun were sinking on the horizon. Adrestin had seated himself on a rock beside the bubbling stream, and Dom found himself beside him in the grass and flowers, lying flat on his back and staring up at the darkening sky as the stars came out. He smiled, mostly to himself. “Bosthirda is such a beautiful world. It's so _peaceful_ here, it's hard to believe it's Sith.”

Adrestin matched his smile. “Peace and beauty are not excluded from Sith presence and ideas, nor are they exclusive to the ideals to the Jedi. They are simply concepts. Open to all.”

Dom frowned a little as he reached a hand up, pretending to pinch the stars between his fingers. “But I thought Sith thought peace was a lie.”

A light chuckle came from Adrestin, and he shrugged. “Even as the Jedi code can be seen as fraught full of errors, so too can the code of the Sith. Peace is only a lie in so much as it is temporary. Transient. It is not meant to be eternal. Its ephemeral nature is partly what makes it so valuable. Positing that it can be captured and held onto for any length of time is a disservice and a deception, but that does not mean that it is something to be shunned or broken when found.”

Adrestin paused, watching Dom as he gazed up at the stars. Slowly, he rose from his seat on the rocks and beckoned to Dom. “Would you walk with me?”

Dom scrambled to his feet and nodded an affirmative, coming up to Adrestin's side as they began to follow the flow of the stream. Though the stars were out, the last of the sun's rays were still visible, casting a warm reddish purple glow over the landscape. They spent several minutes in silence as they walked, but eventually Adrestin broke it with a softly spoken question. “What do you consider to be your best and proudest moment, Dom, when you were back at the Jedi Temple?”

Dom frowned in mild confusion. “Huh? Um... I'm not sure.”

“Consider for a moment. I am curious.”

Dom took his time trying to think of a reasonably accurate answer, and slowly it came to him. “I guess... I guess it was probably right after my second time searching for a lightsaber crystal.”

“Second? For your other blade, then?”

Dom nodded in confirmation. “Mmhmm. My first was the green one from Ilum.”

“And your second was also from there?”

Dom shook his head. “No, they were years apart, and different places. I wasn't a young Padawan then, I was already under Master Hukartl's tutelage, and they told me to meditate in the archives, and said that the maps would show me the way. I'd just been told that I showed the right kind of aptitude and dexterity for Jar'Kai, so they wanted me to have two blades. Anyway, I did as I was told, and I kind of fixated on the Adega system.”

Adrestin nodded. “Where Jedi of old had gotten their lightsaber crystals before the Cron Supernova, a few hundred years ago.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you go?”

Dom hesitated before responding. “Well... I was... kind of actively discouraged from going, but Master Hukartl finally did concede and they accompanied me to the remnants of the system. It was one of the very few times I'd been away from Coruscant.”  
“What happened while you were there?”

“Not much, really. I found a place that seemed promising, and Master Hukartl waited for me while I explored. I was really nervous, but I did find a crystal for my second blade. It was... really strange. Like it resonated with me, like a connection in the Force. It was really strong.”

Adrestin gave him a knowing smile, but gestured for him to continue.

“But... when I returned to my master, they were visibly disturbed by the colour of the crystal. They didn't say anything at the time, but when we returned to Coruscant they conferred with some of the other masters there, and when I was called in to talk with them, they... well, lets just say I was strongly 'encouraged' to discard the crystal I had just found and use one of the Temple-supplied blades instead of making a second lightsaber from the Adegan crystal.” He smiled faintly at the memory. “I don't think I'd ever been bold enough to disagree with my master before then, but I defended my use of the Adegan crystal. I honestly don't know why I felt so strongly about it. But it really connected with me, somehow. I felt like I would have been letting myself down if I didn't make a lightsaber for it.”

Again Adrestin nodded. “I am familiar with the feeling. Please, continue.”

“So I did. Make a lightsaber for it, that is. When I lit it for the first time, in my cell after I had finished constructing it, that moment was probably the proudest I've ever been.” His smile faded. “...But because of everyone's apprehension over it, I was self-conscious about using it. So I did end up caving in and using the temple-supplied blades instead when they tried to teach me Jar'Kai.”

“And you still keep it hidden away even now, though it is one of the things most important to you.”

Dom sighed. “Amazing how much someone's disapproval can stick with you, sometimes.”

“Mm.” Adrestin tilted his head down at Dom, watching him with one pair of eyes even as the other set kept watch of where they were going. “Would perhaps using your own blade again make you feel more confident in relearning Jar'Kai, considering it resonates so well with you?”

“I... suppose so. I've honestly never really used it. But it would make sense.”

“And perhaps that feeling of pride and accomplishment that you had when you finished constructing that lightsaber – perhaps that is something you could hold onto as well. A good way to focus your confidence. If you hadn't had at least that much faith in yourself to stand up to your master and the others when they tried to discourage your blade's creation, you never would have had a blade that resonates with you. You already have that confidence within you. Let that blade be a gentle reminder of it.”

Dom allowed himself a small smile. “It's... a good place to start, for sure.”

“Mm.”

They continued walking in silence for a little while longer, and the light faded to a dim velvet blue on the horizon. The stars were out in brilliance, the belt of the Esstran Sector shining brightly overhead. Looking around at the softly lit landscape around them, Dom slowly realized that they'd never gone this way before. “Um, Adrestin? Where are we going?”

Adrestin came to a stop and turned to regard him, his eyes glittering. “Do you trust me, Dom?”

Dom's eyes grew wide and he hesitated, dropping his gaze as he flushed again in mottled purple. But slowly he nodded.

“Would you be willing to trust me blindly then, for a few moments?”

Again Dom nodded, and Adrestin crouched down in front of him and offered him a hand. Dom took it, his heart thumping in trepidation over the unexpected as he did so. And ever so gently, Adrestin pulled him forward and picked him up. “Close your eyes, and hold on tight.”

Dom obediently complied, shivering at the contact. He was just about to ask Adrestin where they were going when suddenly he felt the rush of freefall and his heart leapt to his throat. He clung to Adrestin's shoulders and squeezed his eyes even more tightly shut, but the feeling only lasted for a moment. They landed what must have been some forty meters down into a narrow ravine, and Adrestin crouched again to return Dom to the ground. Once again he took Dom's hand, and gestured into the darkness. Ahead of them yawned the jagged mouth of a cave, black even in the twilight.

Dom looked up at Adrestin, full of uncertainty. But Adrestin just smiled down at him, the unasked question of trust silently repeated without needing the words. He ran a gentle hand over Dom's horns. “Let me be your eyes, just for a few moments.”

Once again, Dom felt his horns mottle in deep purple, though the dim light of the gathering night mercifully prevented it from being obvious. He nodded, and clutched Adrestin's hand just a little tighter as Adrestin led him into the cave.

It was quiet here. Aside from their own echoing footsteps, the only sound Dom could hear was a faint rushing of wind through the hollows in the stone, and the distant _drip drip drip_ of water. His feelings of trepidation and uncertainty only grew as they walked, but Adrestin's hand was warm and firm against his own. He focused on the feel of his scales against his skin as a source of comfort and confidence, and he took a deep breath. After all, if Adrestin – _Darth Belus –_ one of the scariest Sith Dom had ever met, was protecting him, what did he _really_ have to fear?

As they ventured further into the cave all light from the starlit night was swallowed up by the darkness, leaving Dom in pitch black aside from the small fiery glow of Adrestin's eyes. Surely his species could see in infra-red or had some other kind of special night vision, for Adrestin had no trouble navigating the cave. He led Dom with confidence through several twists and turns, and slowly Dom became aware that there was a faint blue-white glow up head. He couldn't pinpoint the source though, nor did it grow more defined. The quiet sound of dripping water seemed to have grown as well, yet remained unseen. The glow was just enough that Dom could see outlines in the shadows now, and he looked up at Adrestin to ask what was up ahead. But Adrestin seemed to anticipate his question – he simply smiled and put a finger to his lips as he drew him to a stop. His voice was soft as a whisper when he spoke. “Close your eyes, Dom.”

He obeyed, and Adrestin led him around the next corner. Dom could feel the stone turn to softer ground beneath his feet and could hear the babbling of what had to be some sort of stream. He was pulled to a stop and as Adrestin curled an arm around his shoulders and bent to whisper in Dom's ear, a shiver ran up his spine.

“You can open them.”

Dom cracked open his eyes slowly, and immediately held a hand to his mouth to keep in the gasp. Before him sprawled a lush carpet of emerald-green mosses, dotted with tiny bellflowers. Faintly bioluminescent mushrooms sprouted here and there, illuminating the cave with their bluish glow. An underground creek cut across their path, and delicately carved stones etched with the same luminescence as the mushrooms showed the way across the water. And just beyond lay a temple, or perhaps it was a shrine. Its edges of masonry were etched in much the same way as the stones in the water, their graceful lines glowing faintly though partially covered by the luxuriant moss. Little blue flowers from delicate vines sprouted here and there along its walls, and every few moments the flash of a glowworm emanated from within the folded petals.

It was one of the most beautiful sights Domthus had ever seen. Wetness gathered at the corners of his eyes, and he felt his heart jump somewhere near his throat. “What... what is this place?”

Adrestin's words were quiet, almost a whisper. “This is Veirun Selar. It is the reason Dirae came to stay on Bosthirda, and it is with her permission that I bring you here tonight.”

Dom nodded, though his words hadn't truly answered his question. The place was vibrant with the Force, rich and full.

...And cold and dark, as well. Belatedly, he came to the realization that the tiny mushrooms and delicate flowers were sprouting along the long-sunken borders of what could only be the remnants of sarcophagi. The entrance to the temple, so beautifully draped in bell-shaped flower heads nodding in the faint breath of the cave, was also carved in runes he had only ever seen adorning the thresholds of Sith shrines and mausoleums. The Force was strong here, but it was also a locus of the Dark Side.

Adrestin's arm around his shoulders gently drew him closer, and Dom looked up at him with uncertainty. Adrestin merely cocked his head. “Would you like to go inside?”

Dom's eyes widened, and at first he felt a spike of freshly-renewed fear. And yet... though still afraid, he looked around him. Sensed the presence of the Force around him. There was no danger here, not for him. A place full of Dark Side power it may be, but it was also... quiet. Peaceful, almost. And certainly breathtakingly beautiful. Slowly, he nodded.

Adrestin led him by the hand, and waved open the rune-carved doors. They ground against each other as they slid to the side, and another breath of air swept by Dom. It smelled stale, but earthy... Like old leaves in the rain. He followed Adrestin inside.

It was certainly a mausoleum. The sealed mouths of a dozen sarcophagi echoed the same glowing runes as the outside, and here and there the moss had invaded to decorate the smooth stone. Adrestin ran an affectionate hand over the name plates etched in the ancient Sith tongue, and came to a stop before a low pedestal at the end of the short hall. Upon it hovered a translucent pyramid, edged in metal and emanating a deep purple glow.

Dom's eyes widened. “Is that... A Sith holocron?” he breathed, not daring to speak above a whisper.

Adrestin nodded, and beckoned Dom forward. “This is one that I recovered from the Fortress of An-Drend. The original that used to grace this tomb has long been gone. Destroyed or stolen, I am not sure. But I find that this one makes a fine replacement. I come here often to study and meditate. I invite you to do the same, whenever you desire.”

Dom flashed a shy smile at Adrestin, but it slowly faded. “I... don't think I could study a Sith holocron, Adrestin. I've heard what they contain...”

Adrestin's eyes glittered in the dim light, and he reached out a hand to draw the holocron to him with the Force. It hovered just above his open palm, and slowly the latches turned as it began to open. “That choice is entirely yours to make, Dom. But this holocron differs a great deal from those your BrightWatch team tries so hard to destroy.”

The top of the holocron unfolded like a geometric flower, and they were gradually surrounded by the soft tinkling of bells and the faint echo of windchimes. A flute of some unknown design slipped in and out through the background, slowly building in strength until it became the main refrain of a long-forgotten hymn. The quiet, undulating melody of singing voices came to Dom's ears in a language he had never heard, joyous as birdsong and melancholy as wind through winter trees. For the second time, tears sprung to the corners of Dom's eyes. “How...”

Adrestin smiled, his expression fond and distant. “How can such a thing be a Sith relic? Listen long enough, Dom, and you will understand what they are singing.” He brushed a corner of the holocron with the lightest of touches, and the entire geometric flower began to turn. Slowly the song became words, poetry in the musical language of the Nagai. “This holocron's entire content is nothing but song and poetry, art and drama and dance. The beauty of words and motion, philosophy and treatise. All beautiful, all priceless, and all Sith.”

Dom nodded, eyes wide with awe as he watched the holocron unfold itself once again. As its shape changed, so did the sound, only this time it was accompanied by images. Twisting, whirling shapes floated by them, accompanied by airy, almost ethereal voices. Dom realized he must be viewing a holographic recording of a Parwan opera. “This is... this is amazing,” he whispered, voice catching with emotion in his throat. “How... How much does it hold?”

“I do not know. The knowledge a holocron contains is fluid, less like an encyclopedia and more like... a memory. The keeper of this holocron is the spirit of Najj'Dar'meij, a famous Sith poet and taleweaver when they were alive, many centuries ago. Much of the time they keep quiet, but if you have the patience and the curiosity, they may show themselves. In time.”

Dom glanced from Adrestin to the slowly rotating geometric form, fascinated with its shapes and movements. “I... can come here whenever I want?”

Adrestin nodded. “Now that you have been here once, you can find your way again through the Force. Or I can accompany you, if you wish.”

“I... thank you, Adrestin. For showing me this.”

He was favoured with a smile, and Adrestin brushed his hand delicately over the top of the holocron. It slowly began to fold again, returning to its original pyramid shape as the echoing sounds of Mrlssi chanting faded into the sounds of the stream bubbling outside. Once again Adrestin offered Dom his hand, and they made their way back out of the temple.

Dom rested the side of his head against Adrestin's arm as they walked hand-in-hand over the mossy stone, still enraptured by the beauty of the cavern around him. Even as they turned the corner and he surrendered his sight to Adrestin's night vision, he could still see the pale blue light of the mushrooms and glowworms in his mind's eye.

They retraced their steps to the base of the ravine that Adrestin had jumped down from, and here he took up Dom in his arms once again as he followed a narrow switchback path up the steep rock until they emerged back out onto the rolling grassy hills.

The stars were out in full, the belt of the Esstran Sector glittering down and bathing the landscape in their soft glow. Jedi and Sith walked together under the starlight, and in one of the rare times of Dom's life, he felt truly content.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dom is finally starting to settle in and make himself at home. :')  
> Aaaaand next chapter we (finally) cut to Sivin and see what he's been up to.


	21. In Which We Return To Sivin, And See What He Has Been Up To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sivin has taken temporary leave from leading BrightWatch, and has gone to the satellite Jedi Temple on the cloudy jungle world of Gleiir. There he hopes that he can find some measure of peace and center his conflicted mind, but even this far on the Outer Rim isn't far enough to run from his problems.

Gleiir was a hot world, wet and steamy, with a runaway greenhouse atmosphere and heavy rolling clouds that entirely obscured the surface from view on approach in a spacecraft. The seasonal thunderstorms were sometimes so strong they prevented any interaction with the outside galaxy, often knocking out beacons and communication towers for days or even weeks on end. It certainly could have been considered an odd place for a satellite Jedi Temple, but for its purpose it was rather ideal.

There were no younglings or Padawans here. No initiates and no sightseers, only Jedi Knights and Masters seeking to hone their skills with a lightsaber or deepen their meditation. The torrential rains provided a monotony that could only be beneficial to extended meditation sessions, and the humidity was so thick that one couldn't differentiate between the sweat from intense lightsaber practice and the sweat from simply existing in the environment.

All in all, it was not unlike the world where Sivin's species originated. His amphibious skin soaked up the rain and humidity like a sponge, filling him with a vitality and energy that many other species got from a stroll through morning sunshine. Every day he rose before dawn and spent the early morning hours through sunrise in meditation on a dais out in the open rain. It was followed with a strenuous hike up the side of a jungle-covered mountain, and upon reaching a clearing near the top he would go through every drill and lightsaber form he knew, honing his steps until they were textbook perfection. Only then would he make the trek back down to the Temple below and make himself a simple meal for the day. He would spend the rest of his daylight hours assisting with chores before returning to the dais to meditate once more until far past midnight. It was the ideal routine for a Jedi ascetic. An admirable one for a common Jedi Master. He should have been happy, or at least fulfilled.

He was utterly miserable.

Six weeks he had been here. Six weeks of nothing but unrelenting confusion and guilt and frustration. He avoided everyone else at the Temple, for fear that somehow his strong barriers in the Force would slip and they would notice how lonely and angry he had become. A few Jedi had even tried to seek him out here, curious about whether he would be open to taking on a new project or even a new Padawan. He had rebuffed them all, and had even resorted to vanishing into the jungles and lakes for days at a time to avoid the more persistent visitors.

But for now he was, mercifully, alone. His morning meditation had been just as fruitless as usual, and he had little hope that his lightsaber practice session would help center him either. But all the same, he slowly trudged upward through the thick vines and underbrush of the mountainside jungle. The rain was coming down in sheets, and for any non-amphibious species the weather probably would have been worthy of drowning in. Sivin shed his shirt and robe as he walked, leaving just his trousers to cling uncomfortably to his skin. The weight of his lightsaber on his hip gave him no assurance, only left him sighing wearily at the prospect of yet another disappointing practice.

He broke out of the jungle and into a clearing, where the ground was almost level and the rain gathered in pools beside bared roots and clumps of ferns. Here he paused and took a turn to gather in his surroundings. Several kilometers away lay the satellite Jedi Temple, nestled in the vibrant green valley far below. In the opposite direction the hills rose and fell several times before steadily climbing into bare, jagged peaks always obscured by the heavy clouds. And here in front of him was the rotting stump of what had once been a massive tree. When it had fallen it had taken with it everything else growing tall within the reach of its branches, leaving the clearing to slowly recover on its own. Sivin had not missed the irony.

He drew his saber and ignited it, watching the sudden cloud of steam as it caught the raindrops on its burning green-blue blade. He brought it to bear within a centimeter of the tree stump, and held it steady as he slowly breathed in and out.

“ _'There is no emotion, there is peace.'”_ He swept his saber up and around, meeting the other side of the stump just shy of its rotting bark. “I never should have allowed myself to be overcome with grief. I should have felt the Force around me and allowed it to give me peace.” He breathed in and out, watching the steadiness of his hand.

“ _'There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.'”_ The blade came up again and Sivin thrust it forward, the very tip of the blade scorching the wood of the stump with its proximity, even though it did not touch. “I am aware of my shortcomings. I know my mistakes, and that is the first step to correcting them. I know my greatest weakness. I know his name.” He breathed in and out, watching a slight tremor form along the blade.

“ _'There is no passion, there is serenity.'”_ He swept the blade backwards high over his head and flourished it in the air, making rapid work of Forms I through III as he ran through their practice steps. He spoke as he moved into Form IV, each word punctuating a thrust and parry. “I must not let my feelings take over. No attachment should ever be so great that my connection to the Light Side of the Force becomes clouded, no emotion so strong that passion carries me away from centering myself in the Light.” The blade's motion froze mere millimeters from the ragged top of the stump, wavering with the trembling of his hands.

“ _'There is no chaos, there is harmony.'”_ He swallowed hard and brought the blade to bear, methodically dragging it through the wood in wide, horizontal strikes. “This conflict within me must be cut out before it can grow into a deeper problem, a greater disease. Once I conquer that conflict, peace will come naturally. It is the way of the Force.” He continued his sweeping dismemberment of the stump until only the barest traces of root remained and his breathing was harsh and heavy. Sweat poured off of him in streams, and tears stung at his eyes, but the rain washed them away.

“ _'There is no death, there is the Force.'”_

He stopped, breathing ragged and hitched. “...Do I really know what that means?”

The blade trembled in his hands, and he released his grip on it with one hand. Staring down at his palm, he flexed his fingers in and out of a fist. “Do I really know what I must do, to free myself from this doubt and confusion? Or am I just pretending I don't because I don't like the answer?”

He heaved a trembling sigh, and extinguished his blade. He suddenly turned his back on the smoldering stump in the clearing and returned the way he had come.

He was pretty sure he knew what he should do, and he was pretty sure he should take comfort in that last line of the Jedi Code to get it done. But... he couldn't. He knew he couldn't. Not now, maybe not ever. He wasn't nearly that strong or that centered in the Force, and he doubted any amount of meditation or practice would remedy that. He'd have to find another way.

He covered the last kilometer back to the Temple with aching slowness. But wherever he went, he knew there was no escaping the constant nagging thoughts in the back of his head. He heaved a sigh as he stepped onto the elevated boardwalk that kept the thatched buildings from drowning in the floodwaters.

But he wasn't alone. One of the Jedi Knight caretakers was waiting for him, shifting from foot to foot as she tried to catch his eye without actually calling after him. He sighed again, and turned to her. “What is it?”

She flinched, just a little. “I'm sorry to bother you, Master. But you have a visitor. I know you said you weren't taking visitors, but she is from BrightWatch and she won't leave until she sees you.”

Sivin ran a hand down his face in weary resignation. “I bet I know who that is. Tell her I'm indisposed. If she really won't leave until she sees me, she's going to be waiting a while.”

The Knight nodded and rapidly retreated to one of the longhouses. Sivin watched her go, and when she vanished from sight he quickly turned and made his way down the boardwalk to skirt along the bank of the river, making a beeline for the little hut towards the rear of the compound where he had left his few belongings. He heard a shout and a scuffle from the longhouse, but instead of turning to see what the commotion was he simply increased his pace.

But his luck was not with him. From behind him he heard a familiar voice, calling his name.

“Sivin! _Sivin!_ I see you – I'm not leaving until you talk to me. _Sivin!”_

Sighing, he slowed his pace and paused a few meters from his destination. He didn't turn, but waited until she caught up to him. “What is it, Zarinne?”

She came up beside him, and reached out a tentacle to turn him to face her. “Come on, Commander. I know you said you didn't want visitors, but it's been nearly two months. I just want to talk.”

Siv flashed her a smile he didn't feel, and gestured to his hut. “A short visit, though, okay? I think I'm finally making some progress and I don't want to lose my focus.”

“Sure thing, Siv.” She ducked inside at his invitation, and Siv followed behind her.

“Accommodations are a little lacking, but if you don't mind the décor...”

Zarinne laughed as she took in the tiny space, and she elbowed Siv in the ribs. “Compared to our cells when we were Padawans? This is almost palatial. How are you doing, Siv?”

He turned up his smile a notch, but only met her eyes for a brief moment. “Well, progress is slow. You know me, meditation is _so boring,_ I wish there was some other way to focus but I know I have to do it. It's working though. Little by little.”

Zarinne nodded slowly. “The rest of the Knights here at temple say you don't really talk much.”

Siv laughed, the barriers he had put up in the Force making it sound far more easy-going and natural than it actually was. “Yeah, I know. Not really like me, eh? I just... I'm trying, I'm trying _so hard,_ Zar. Trying to make this work the way it should. I don't think I've focused this much on anything in my entire _life.”_

Zarinne's tentacles around her face lifted up with her smile. “Not even when you tried to get your first lightsaber out from being embedded in the south gymnasium wall? That's impressive, Siv.”

“I know, eh? Heh. Man, I bet you it's still there. Underneath the new plaster and paint.” He seated himself on his cot, and motioned in invitation for her to do the same.

She chuckled. “I know for a fact that even if it's not, there is no teacher still alive who would ever let you forget it.”

“Ain't that the truth.”

She eyed him for a long moment before sitting down next to him. “...Sivin?”

“Yeah, Zar?”

His smile looked casual, but Zarinne could sense there was something off about it. She steeled herself for the worst. “May I be forthright with you?”

The smile faltered for just a brief moment, but in a flash it was back up, glowing brightly in the Force. “You've always been honest with me.”

She sighed, and her facial tentacles drooped. “I have tried, yes. But now I sense that it is _you_ that's not being entirely honest with _me._ Something is _wrong,_ Sivin. Deny it all you want, but that much I know. You're hurting inside, but you keep masking it. Every now and again, just for a fraction of a second, I can feel it.”

Sivin paled next to her, his mottled skin growing ashen as his smile vanished. He looked away, out the still-open door to the rain drumming on the ground outside. “Don't do this to me, Zarinne. I can't talk about it.”

“You can't? Or you won't?” She touched Siv's arm lightly, trying to ignore the flinch she felt. “I have known you for nearly fifty standard years, Sivin Ikalruq. You are my oldest and dearest friend, and you already know how I feel about you. That connection is still there, regardless of how we have grown and matured. I would follow you to the ends of the galaxy and even to death, if I knew it would help and support you.”

She reached another tentacle across to grasp both of Siv's hands, turning him to face her. “We have known each other too long and been through too much together. But ever since you returned from being captured by those Sith, you have avoided not only me and not only BrightWatch, but the rest of the Jedi Order as well. And now I am asking you to believe in the friendship that we have shared for so long. Do not shut me out now. _What is wrong?”_

Siv sat there in silence for long moments that seemed to stretch into forever, staring down at Zarinne's tentacles in his hands. Tears began to gather at the corners of his eyes, but when he tried to blink them away they streamed down his cheeks instead. “Something... _happened,_ while I was captured, Zar. It... it hurts to talk about, hurts to even remember, and every time something reminds me of that time, I just...”

Zarinne gently squeezed his hands, her heart aching for her commander. “...Did they hurt you, Siv?”

He shook his head, a short humorless laugh cutting through his tears. “That's the part that kills me. No, they didn't. The opposite.”

Bewildered, Zarinne just nodded slowly even though she didn't understand. “What happened, Sivin? You know you can tell me. I might be able to help.”

Again Siv shook his head, this time hard enough to tousle his head tendrils. “I don't think anyone or anything can help, Zar. I thought... I thought I could fix this by meditating, or being alone, not dragging anyone else down with me. But it's not helping. I know I said it was, but it's not.”

“What _happened,_ Siv?”

He had been dreading this conversation for nearly two months now, had hoped he would never have to come anywhere near having it. But trying to deal with this by himself had done nothing but cause him pain and suffering. He took a slow, deep breath and flicked his eyes up to finally meet Zarinne's gaze. “...They were kind to me, Zarinne. The Sith. The Annoo-Dat that could have killed you when you came to rescue me, Darth Belus. _Adrestin._ He... was kind to me. He treated me well the entire time I was with him. He saved my life when I was attacked by Hssiss near the Sith shrine. He comforted me when I was stricken with grief over losing my whole team. He helped me gather their bodies and brought me Dom when I thought he was dead. He was _kind_ to me, Zar. Like no one else I've ever known.”

Zar blinked wide-eyed at him, tentacles flat against her face in surprise. She tried to stutter a response, but her shock rendered her speechless.

Sivin smiled, bitter and self-loathing. “And I _let him in._ I let him comfort me, I ate his food and let him hold me when I cried, I believed every word he said when he tried to help. And he genuinely tried to _help,_ Zar. He _cared._ Truly cared. And in just a few days with him, I got _attached.”_ He practically spat the word. “I got attached, Zar. To a _Sith.”_

Zarinne found herself rubbing the end of her tentacles over Sivin's thumbs, struggling to find the right words. “Could... Could he have been lying? Trying to manipulate you?”

“No.” Sivin's answer was immediate and full of conviction. “No, he wasn't lying. He truly does care about me. I don't know why or how, but that much I know for sure.”

Again Zarinne found herself at a loss for words. She nodded slowly, the ends of her facial tentacles flicking restlessly as she wrestled with this information. “... Do... Do you love him?”

This time Sivin's smile was soft and sad. He shook his head. “Not... like that, no. You know I don't feel that way about anyone. But,” and here he let out the most pained sigh Zarinne had ever heard from him, “but I do love him _some_ way. I still care about him. I'm still attached. Even with months of meditation and mental purging, I still...” He pulled away from Zarinne's gentle grip to wave his hands helplessly in the air. “I'm still attached. I don't _get_ it. Why? It's _awful.”_

“That might not necessarily be as bad as you would think,” Zarinne said softly, “you know just as well that I have my own attachment that I live with every day. And have come to accept it as existing, whether I will it or no.”

Siv nodded and slowly took one of Zarinne's tentacles in his hand again. “I know. I just... this is a little different than that, Zar. He's a _Sith._ Every moment I spent with him, I was surrounded by his presence in the Force. I was vulnerable to his words, his thoughts, his point of view. He may not have meant to, but he did manipulate and warp my own thinking just by being there.” He paused, and flicked uncertain eyes up to Zarinne's. “...I started to doubt the Order. The Jedi. _I can't let that happen again._ But every time I try to meditate, or recite the code, I can't stop thinking about it. And it's making me desperate and miserable. Neither of which should even remotely be within a Jedi's capacity.”

Zarinne's eyes grew wide at Siv's admission of doubt, but her tentacle tightened on Siv's hand. “Listen to me, Sivin. We _all_ have moments of weakness. Even the most legendary Jedi Masters of old had failings. Some had doubts. Some even fell, but came back to the Light. Things aren't like what Argent Legion believes. You _can_ come back from something like that. Our Grand Master has even said as much. Don't you believe her? So if a Jedi can fall and then return, how much more so can someone who is simply having some _doubts._ This kind of doubt is mental hesitation, nothing more.” She took his other hand in another tentacle. “And you? You've hardly fallen. Here you are, doing your damnedest to be the best Jedi you can be, working so hard to overcome this.”

“You have more faith in me than I have faith in me, Zar,” he started to say, but Zarinne shook her head to cut him off before he could get farther. She stood up and tugged Sivin to his feet alongside her.

“I believe in you, Sivin. You _can_ overcome this.”

He gave her a wan smile. “Thank you, Zar. You have always been good to me. But...”

“Come back with me, Sivin. Return to Coruscant. Confer with the Council, even talk with the Grand Master. They are all there to help you, _we_ are all here to help you. Won't you allow us to do that much?” She gently squeezed his hands and stared up at him, her worry reflecting in her yellow eyes. “We miss you, Sivin. Come home.”

 


	22. In Which Adrestin Receives A Call For Assistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few weeks have passed since Erion and Astele left to investigate a raid on a Sith colony world. Adrestin has been teaching Dom how to gain confidence using two lightsabers, but they suddenly have other things to occupy their attention when Adrestin receives an unexpected transmission.

“Any word?”

Adrestin shook his head as he paged through the messages on his datapad, sparing a glance up at Dom as he deleted everything non-essential one by one. “Nothing as of yet.”

Dom sighed as he leaned against the back of the couch, pillowing his chin on his arms as he read over Adrestin's shoulder. “It's been almost two weeks. Erion said they'd only be gone a few days, aren't you worried?”

Once again Adrestin shook his head. “This is common. I received coordinates of their location and I already have a tracker on Erion's fighter. We've made a habit of following protocols that would alert one or the other of us if something goes wrong. Don't worry, Dom – they are still there, just delayed. I suspect that Erion has found a lead, and refuses to give it up until they follow it to its end.”

“Huh. Okay. Well if you're not worried, then I won't be.” Dom leaned forward to point at the screen. “Lord Dirae just sent you something.”

Adrestin obliged and tapped the icon on the screen, bringing up a new note. “Ah, excellent. She and Gallus are on their way back. We should see them by tomorrow evening.”

Dom grinned. “I can't wait. Jucada's been going crazy with just me to ride him, and I can't stay on for very long by myself if he tries to glide.”

Adrestin chuckled and reached up a hand behind him to pat Dom on the shoulder. “That whelp adores you. Soon enough you'll be able to ride him in your sleep, gliding or no.”

Dom's grin grew wider, but before he could say anything the comm by Adrestin's side went off, and Adrestin picked it up and flicked the switch with a raised eyebrow. “Belus.”

<Are you occupied?>

Adrestin sat forward, suddenly much more alert at hearing Erion's voice. “Is everything alright?”

The crackle of the transmission made Erion's voice flicker in and out. <No. The colony has been attacked again. It's Jedi. They're strafing the countryside with bombers and then vanishing. Half the farms have been hit. Come as soon as you can.>

Adrestin nodded at the comm, though Erion couldn't see him. “I will be there as soon as I am able.”

<Hurry.> Erion's voice took on an urgency. <These people need help, as quickly as possible. Nitere is here. You should know. It's his homeworld.>

Adrestin stood up abruptly and started forward, hand extended as he used the Force to pull the door open on the other side of the room. “I'm on my way.”

The transmission clicked off, and Adrestin called to Dom as he exited the room. “If you wish to come, Dom, pack a bag. I intend on leaving within ten minutes.”

Dom's eyes grew wide and he jogged up to Adrestin's side, joining him as he made his way to the hall that led to their rooms. “Wait, what – what happened? Why are Jedi attacking a _farming_ colony? Who's Nitere?”

Adrestin used the Force to shove open the door to his quarters and yanked a bag from the closet, promptly throwing in the few necessary belongings that he had brought with him off of his own ship. “Darth Nitere. Though when you meet him, chances are he will insist that you call him his birth name of Niam. He is – well, he was, one of my Apprentices. It was nearly twenty years ago that he ceased needing a Master and gained the title of Darth, if memory serves me.” He tossed the bag over his shoulder and gave the room a once-over, nodding in satisfaction that nothing was out of place or forgotten. “If I had known it was his homeworld that was the target of the raids, I would have insisted on going with Erion and Astele when they had initially left. Do you wish to come?”

Dom hesitated as he followed Adrestin back out the door, his stomach twisting in apprehension. “I, well, um – what would we be doing there?”

“Mostly damage control. If they have been bombing the farms, then there will be a lot of destruction. People will be hurt, some will be dead. Supplies and support are needed most – the _Archon Red_ is already well-stocked in the way of supplies, even for a small colony. What they need most now is support. I have a feeling I will be helping most with defense, if the Jedi come looking for trouble again.”

Dom nodded, wringing his hands as he followed Adrestin to the door of his own quarters. There Adrestin paused and crouched down to meet Dom at eye level. He rested a hand on Dom's shoulder and gave him a small smile. “Your trepidation is bleeding through in the Force. I do not wish to pressure you, Dom. If you do not want to go, or are feeling unsure, you can stay here. Lord Dirae and Gallus are on their way back home, so you would not be alone for long. I do not expect for you to want to go, nor will I be disappointed if you decide to stay. These are not your people, and you are not obligated to come along.”

Suddenly resolute, Dom shook his head. “N – no. No. I'm going with you. It's a farming colony, you said. It's just... farms. _Families.”_ His anger rose, mottling his horns ruddy. “And the Jedi are raiding it? Bombing it? For _what?_ What could this possibly accomplish? That's not what Jedi are supposed to do.”

“I am honestly not sure, Dom. There is not much there that would be worth a Jedi raid. There is a mausoleum with the ashes of the colony's founders, and a few silos for storing crops and whatever mining they have managed to find, but other than that there is very little worth destroying.” He paused and frowned. “It is one of the Sith Empire's furthest colony worlds, though. Striking there makes a point that the Sith border is neither safe nor set in stone. This could be a statement.”

Dom's jaw clenched as he shoved open the door to his room. “I'm coming. Jedi are supposed to _help_ people, not hurt them. I don't care if they're Sith, they're still just farmers and kids and _people.”_ He started rummaging around for a bag, scowling into the drawers as he did so. “If I'm the last Jedi in the galaxy that remembers that, then _damn_ the rest of them and our stupid code, for all the good it does us. I'll help those people _myself.”_

Dom glanced up just in time to see Adrestin beaming at him from the threshold of his room, looking for all the worlds as though he was proud of him. He nodded to Dom and gestured back the way they had come. “While you finish packing, I will send Dirae a message to let her know what has happened. Come aboard the _Archon Red_ when you are done, I will be warming up the engines.”

 

* * * * *

 

It took the _Archon Red_ only nine hours in hyperspace before the hazy warping effect of interstellar travel coalesced into stars again, revealing a murky, dimly lit world orbiting a watery red giant. Dom sat in the copilot's chair next to Adrestin, nervously shifting from side to side as they entered into a high orbit around the planet. Adrestin glanced over at him and placed a clawed hand gently on his knee. “If you change your mind about helping, you are welcome to stay aboard the ship while I assist the colony. You have no obligation here.”

Dom firmly shook his head. “I said I would help, and I'm going to help. Whatever way I can.”

Adrestin gave him a small smile before focusing his attention on an angry flashing light that suddenly pinged on the dashboard. “We're being hailed.”

He flicked on the comm just as two small fighters flew within sighting distance just outside the cockpit's viewports, one on either side. Adrestin's smile grew wider as a familiar voice filtered in through the comm channel. _< Metis _to _Archon Red._ Follow us down to the colony. Do not deviate from our flight path. Keep your weapons powered up.>

“Acknowledged.” Adrestin complied with the directions, and eased his ship down to make a smooth landing on a wide, rocky plain. He was at the boarding ramp in an instant, followed closely by Dom. As they emerged from their ship, Dom looked around to take in the new landscape, already happy to be out of the confines of the spacecraft.

The gently rolling plain they had landed on probably stretched for kilometers all around, but more than a kilometer or two ahead was obscured by a reddish purple haze. The air itself was tinted in rosy hues, and merely walking kicked up clouds of rusty dirt. Next to the _Archon Red_ the two fighters that had flanked them had landed, one of them already vacant of its pilot as Erion came floating down from their cockpit to greet them.

They made straight for Adrestin, clasping their good arm to one of his own. <Thank you for coming. Keep alert – we did not detect a strong hyperspace signature from any of the enemy ships when they retreated, which means they did not go far. Undoubtedly they will be back. And soon.>

Adrestin nodded. “I should keep close to the ship then, so I can assist with driving them off if they try to make another run.”

<That would be appreciated.> Erion flicked their gaze briefly over to Dom, looked as though they were about to say something, then thought differently and instead gestured to the dim set of lights up ahead. <The colony is not large, so keeping close to the ship will not be difficult.>

Not more than thirty low, square buildings lay ahead of them, made of hardened clay and bearing the same rusty hue as the plain. A handful of lights twinkled in the tiny windows of each house, and as Dom studied one of them he spotted a pig-tailed toddler peeking out to study him in turn. He waved as he followed along behind Adrestin, but as soon as he did the child vanished from sight.

<The previous raid happened just before dawn.> Erion made their way down the dusty main road, passing by a few handfuls of people busily boarding up windows and nailing up doorways. <It is nearing dusk right now, and we still have not had time enough to bolster our defenses. Astele is constructing some anti-aircraft gunnery out of what resources we have, but anything will help. I know you have extras on the ship.>

“I do, indeed. There are two portable arrays in the aft hold. Get a few people together and we can unload them right away.”

<I'll see to it.>

“Dom! Lord Belus! Hi!”

Astele came running up around the corner, grinning wide from ear to ear. “Glad you could join us! Oh man, you're in for a ride. Niam's guessing the Jedi are gonna be back tonight. We'll be in the middle of a firefight before you know it, and –”

Adrestin held up a hand and tilted his head to one side. “Where is he?”

“Who? Oh, Niam?” Astele's ears flicked in several directions. “Around here somewhere. He was grabbing me a heavier set of actuating modules, but... oh there he is.” She waved over to one of the locals who was hauling up a cart filled with electronics and mechanical scrap. “Niam! Your Master's here!” she turned back to Adrestin for only a second. “I gotta go, though. Catch you later! See ya, Dom! You should help me out later, if you can. _Niam! Here!”_

The man perked up at second call, and hopped down from the cart to run up to them as Astele rushed off.

He was... _strange._ Almost the same shade of dusky purple as Dom, he wore his hair in an unruly, bright maroon mohawk. Two tentacles grew from the base of his neck to drape over his shoulders, and traditional Sith tattoos etched his face and neck and the rest of his visible skin. Dom couldn't identify the species he belonged to, but it wasn't his appearance that startled him, but his aura. To Dom's eyes, the Force seemed to flash off of him in waves of sharp, bright colours, punctuated with the hard edges of the Dark Side. It almost reminded him of the scintillating rainbows found in oil slicks and tar pits. It was the weirdest mix he had ever sensed.

A wide grin stretched across the man's face as he approached, and he practically threw himself into Adrestin's arms. “Heya boss! It's been so long!”

Adrestin easily picked him up in an embrace, and didn't seem the least bit surprised when Niam refused to let go after setting him back on the ground. “A long time indeed. You have been wandering for many a year, I did not know you had settled, nor that this was your homeworld.”

Niam's grin only grew wider, dimples forming on either side of his face. “It's not like I kept in touch real regular, so that one's my fault. Did the old goat get you updated on our situation?”

Adrestin nodded. “Erion has touched on some of the basics. How are your people holding up?”

Only then did Niam's face fall, and he finally released Adrestin to take in the settlement around them. “They're scared, but they're not cowed. All of our critical cases have been addressed first, but we're still moving people into the infirmary for treatment. Beds are still being found for those whose homes have been destroyed. You can't see it real well because of the haze, but most of the outlying oasis farms are gone now. Doodlebug's working hard to get those anti-aircraft guns up and running, so that's going to be a big help once she's done. Who's this?” He stopped and gestured to Dom, his smile returning.

Adrestin curled an arm around Dom's shoulders and gently squeezed. “This is Domthus. Dom, meet Niam Thrix, Darth Nitere. My old Apprentice.”

Dom gave him his best smile and offered a hand. “N-nice to meet you.”

Niam grasped not only his hand, but his shoulder as well and pulled him into an enthusiastic hug. “Nice to meet you too! Finally took on somebody new, did you boss? He's pretty, uh, bright.”

Adrestin shook his head. “Dom is not my Apprentice, he is my companion, and here under my protection.”

Dom finally was loosed from Niam's unexpected embrace, looking a little disheveled. “I came with because I – I wanted to help.”

Niam's grin widened even further. “Aw, he's a sweetheart. Well we definitely appreciate all the help we can get. Right now I think our most immediate need is at the infirmary.”

Adrestin nodded and took Dom's hand. “Show us the way?”

“I gotta get back to getting these parts to the doodlebug, or she'll get pissy. The old goat can get you there. See you soon, boss!” He waved and ran back to his cart.

Erion came up from where they had been standing off to the side, patiently waiting for the exchange to end. <Why he insists on calling me that still is beyond me. We are barely months apart.>

Still leading Dom by the hand, Adrestin fell in beside Erion as they made their way to the infirmary. “Perhaps because you act as though you are light years his elder. Niam has never really acted his age.”

<Hn.> Their gaze once again flicked over to Dom, and Erion's voice dropped. <You should not have brought the Jedi.>

Adrestin let out a long-suffering sigh. “Eri, we have been over this...”

<This is different. But since he _is_ here, he should stay indoors, remain in the infirmary if he so badly wishes to help.>

“The infirmary was our initial intention, yes.”

<Good. Keep it that way. We'll talk about it later.>

Adrestin raised one set of eyebrows at the remark, but didn't press Eri for more.

They neared the end of the main road, and to their right was the largest of the low, square buildings in the settlement. The center of it rose slightly above the level of the rest in a dome, and shallow steps led downwards to a recessed entrance. Erion led the way and pushed open the doors with the Force, allowing Adrestin and Dom to step inside ahead of them.

The doors opened out onto a narrow balcony, with several sets of steps and slopes leading down to a large lobby, carved out from the sandstone beneath. Most of the building was underground, and from their vantage point Dom could see several large tunnels functioning as hallways, leading off to rooms and other areas. People were moving in and out, bustling over the influx of patients from earlier that morning.

Erion leaned over to grip Adrestin's arm. <Here I leave you. I must get back to patrolling the skies. Until reinforcements are sent, we have precious little protecting us.>

“In that case, you may tell Niam that he or any capable pilot he trusts can borrow the _Archon Red_ once its supplies are unloaded.”

Erion nodded once, threw another unreadable look at Dom, then turned and left.

Dom sighed and clutched Adrestin's hand a little tighter. “And here I thought they were hating me a little _less,_ last time I saw them. I guess I was wrong.”

Adrestin slowly shook his head, his eyes still on the doors that Erion had just exited. “No, there is... something else. They are worried, Dom. I cannot tell what about, only that your presence here doesn't anger or upset them.”

“If you say so. Where should we start?”

“We'll find the administrator first, and then we'll know where help is needed most.”

 

The next four hours of Dom's life were spent comforting the dying and assisting Adrestin as he used the power of the Dark Side to heal the wounded. He used what few healing techniques he had learned in the Jedi Temple, but such things were slow and clumsy compared to the decades of practice that made it second nature to Adrestin.

As the evening moved into night Dom began to grow weary, and he wished that he had taken the opportunity on the journey to the colony to get some rest. He stole glances up at Adrestin when he could, noticing that one set of his eyes remained closed. He smiled as he felt the little spike of envy for being able to half-sleep while doing all this work, and resolutely did what he could to call upon the Force to help him remain alert.

The Sith around him didn't seem to notice – or care, rather – that Dom was different. He had been painfully aware of his own presence in the Light from the moment they had entered the settlement. Even the little toddler peeking out of the window had been immersed in the Dark Side of the Force, and here he was, practically glistening with the Light. They _had_ to have noticed. But not once had anyone said anything, aside from Niam's offhand comment about being bright. But then again, these people were living under the threat of bombings and raids. They had bigger things to worry about than a single user of the Light Side of the Force.

Adrestin finished treating their latest patient, and he ran a hand over his brow before glancing down at Dom. “How are you doing? Do we need to take a break for a while?”

But klaxons suddenly blared throughout the building, sounding the emergency alarm. Dom jumped and cringed at the noise, and looked up to Adrestin for guidance. “What should we do?”

Adrestin rose quickly and started to shoulder his way towards the ramps that led back up to ground level. “That can only mean that the Jedi have returned. I am going to assist with defense on the ground. You stay here, alright?”

“But –”

“Please, Dom. Stay here. You are safest and will be of most help staying at the infirmary.” He gave Dom's shoulder a gentle squeeze, then rushed up the ramp and out the door.

Dom huffed and started up after him, muttering to himself as he followed. “I _know_ I'm safest here, but people will be hurt out _there,_ soon, and...”

He pushed open the doors, bracing himself and raising an arm against the gust of rusty wind that greeted him as he left the building.

There was fire in the distance. He could see it burning through the haze, marking the edge of what must have once been one of the oasis farms. The roar and scream of starfighter engines tore through the air, shaking the ground with their passing overhead. Dom squinted to keep the dust out of his eyes as he followed their shapes, only for his eyes to grow wide with recognition.

The distinctive green, silver, and yellow logo emblazoned on the sides of the bombers was the same symbol etched on the base of Dom's own lightsabers. The same one he had worn with pride mere months ago.

_BrightWatch._

The knot that twisted in Dom's gut also made his heart jump to his throat, and he slowly backed away from open ground. Two more bombers roared overhead, close enough that Dom could see the helmeted heads of the gunners and pilots in each one. Belatedly he realized that if _he_ could see _them,_ then _they_ could see _him._

He turned, ready to sprint back to the low dome of the infirmary, but froze as one of the bombers slowed and made a narrow arc back to hover low. It's repulsorlifts and engines blasted the rocky ground, and ever so slowly Dom turned back once again, dread filling him to the pit of his stomach. The gunnery hatch on the fighter popped open and its occupant pushed herself up to perch on the edge, one hand on the side of her helmet as she gave orders into her headset before she pulled it off and she dropped to the ground.

The roar of the fighter overhead was not enough to drown out the _snap-hiss_ of her lightsaber igniting, and she settled into the opening stance of Ataru. The blue light of her blade made the shadows of the deepening night twist and writhe. “Domthus,” she spat. “Imagine that. You. _Here._ With the _Sith.”_

Dom pulled one of his own lightsabers from his side, and hesitated just for a moment before lighting it. Its shimmering green seemed to waver in the dusty air as he brought himself to bear, his dread growing with each passing second. Dom's voice trembled, but his hand did not.

“...Halde Digar.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... That escalated quickly.


	23. In Which There Is A Lightsaber Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halde Digar confronts Domthus, and the two engage in a fierce lightsaber duel.

“Seems like your luck just ran out, traitor.” Halde took a few steps sideways, eyeing Dom's blade as she circled. “And it appears as though my request to rejoin BrightWatch's main taskforce was fortunate indeed. They told me it was not guided by the Force, but this proves otherwise.” She suddenly lunged forward, coming at Dom with her blade whirling.

Dom stumbled back, barely managing to parry her attacks as he lost ground. “Don't do this Halde, I'm not worth it –”

“Damn right you're not. It's the _principle_ of the matter. But you wouldn't know anything about principles, _would_ you?” She tumbled to the side and spun around on her knee, aiming to slice Dom through his torso. But he managed to block her lunge just in time, and their lightsabers threw sparks at their meeting.

Halde leaned into their crossed sabers, putting her superior strength to its best advantage as she shoved Dom back. He leapt away just in time to avoid another sweeping blow, and countered with one of his own. Halde caught his blade with hers and once again they pushed against each other. “You won't win this one, Domthus. Not you and not your new little Sith friends, either. I have superior firepower.”

She shoved Dom away with a fierce grin, and took a step back. Behind her, the bomber hovered low, so low it nearly scraped the ground with its guns. And those guns were fixed on Dom. As Halde jumped free of their target range, belatedly Dom cringed, and the ground around him erupted in showers of dust and flying rock debris as the bomber let loose a volley of turbolasers.

But nothing hit Dom. The screaming engines of a Sith fighter had jolted the bomber off its targeting range, and Dom saw the _Metis_ tear through the sky low enough it clipped the rear stabilizing fin of the Jedi bomber. The _Metis_ came back around for another pass, and the bomber hastily rose into the air to avoid being plowed into the ground. Both fighters veered up further into the sky, exchanging shots as they each tried to get their bearing on the other.

Dom tore his eyes away from the fighters just in time to see Halde hurtling through the air at him, her lightsaber a flurry of strikes as she bore down on him. He tumbled to the side and used the Force to push her away, buying him just enough time that he could regain his footing again.

Halde snarled. “Looks like you have friends in the fighters as well. Must be nice to be so liked among _Sith._ We'll see how long that lasts.” She advanced once again on Dom.

He took a step back, just long enough to pull his second lightsaber from his belt. He ignited it and brought himself into Niman's opening stance, taking a slow, deep breath under its pale pink glow.

Halde hesitated, but just for a moment. She barked out a short laugh. “Are you serious? You're going to end up hurting yourself, Domthus. By all means though, please, make my job easier.” She lunged for him again, the fury of her strikes almost overwhelming.

But just almost. Parrying her blows with his green lightsaber, he brought his second blade in to make strikes of his own. Halde's advancement halted, and Dom held his ground.

She broke off, jumping just clear of Dom's blades to back away a couple of steps. “Been doing a little training, have you? Looks like you're half a Sith already.” She gestured to Dom's pink blade before once again advancing on Dom, her lightsaber clashing with both of his.

Neither of them had spared any further attention to the fighters in the air, but a sudden volley of turbolaser fire on the ground near them jolted them out of their focus on their own fight. The _Metis_ hotly pursued the Jedi bomber, and strafed its side as it tried to bank hard to port. Its stabilizers failed and the bomber careened into the ground, crashing in a cloud of fire and dust. The _Metis_ itself swept down to the ground, less than a hundred meters from where Halde and Dom had been fighting. The hatch popped open and Erion flew out, charging down to the ground in their repulsor harness. Their blade glowed fiery yellow in the dust and haze, and without sparing a glance back at the downed bomber Erion came up beside Dom. Golden blade met blue, throwing green sparks as Erion engaged Halde. <Do not _touch_ him, Jedi filth.> Their eyes blazed with the power of the Dark Side, and Erion spun in furious strikes against Halde's blade.

Shocked by the sudden intrusion of another into their fight, Halde lost her ground and backed slowly away. She could only just hold herself against the ferocity of Erion's attack, and the dismay rapidly grew to desperation on her face. Dom had stepped to the side when Erion came charging in, knowing he would only get in the way if he tried to help. Instead he fell back into a guard position, holding both his blades at the ready in case his assistance was needed.

But both Erion and Dom had forgotten about Halde's pilot in the downed bomber. Staggering up from the crash, he braced himself and let loose with the Force, targeting Erion with a blast of wind that threw them high into the air and over the buildings behind them. Collapsing from the effort, the pilot gave Halde one last triumphant smile before crumpling to the ground.

Dom's heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. His first instinct was to call for Erion and go running to help them, wherever they had landed. But Halde was already bearing down on him once again, and he brought his sabers again up to guard. A grim determination now set Halde's jaw, and this time she didn't spare any words as she struck.

Dom may have been practicing, but he was no match for her swordsmanship. They exchanged blows and parries as the minutes wore on, but Dom's strength was beginning to fail. He was trying everything in his power to harness the Force to keep himself standing, but against Halde's righteous fury, it wasn't enough. With one lucky strike she knocked the green blade from his hand and kicked him in the chest, knocking him backward and bringing him to his knees.

_And here is where it ends,_ Dom thought to himself as he watched her blue blade come down just before he closed his eyes to the sight. _Strange how quiet it all is._

But the blow never came. Dom opened his eyes and stared up at her, his expression more quizzical than frightened.

She seemed frozen in place. Her lightsaber was mere centimeters from Dom's face, quivering in her hand. Her eyes were huge, her free hand clutching at her chest as she gasped and struggled for air.

And then Dom became aware of the heavy coiling of the Dark Side, deep and black and visceral with power as it boiled and heaved from the figure slowly approaching from the haze.

Adrestin held one hand out, palm up and fingers curled. All four eyes were narrowed to slits, but the burning light from the corruption of his eyes still shone through. He strode steadily up to Dom's side, fierce glare never leaving Halde's struggling form. Slowly he lifted his arm, and with it Halde rose in the air. Her lightsaber fell from her hand as she clutched at her throat, extinguishing before it hit the ground. Adrestin let her dangle there as she writhed, desperate for breath, until he had approached within mere meters of where she hung. With one swift motion he drew one of his own blades from his belt and ignited it, running her through. Her body convulsed once with the force of the blade, then fell limp and lifeless to the ground.

Adrestin turned without sparing her another glance. He crouched down beside Dom where he still knelt in the dust, and gently ran a hand over the side of his face. “Are you alright? Did she hurt you?”

Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, Dom just nodded numbly. “I'm... alright...”

Erion emerged from the haze, their repulsor harness and rebreather unit battered but still functional. They rushed up to Dom's side as well, and took his shoulder in a fierce grip. <Are you hurt?>

Dom slowly shook his head, his white eyes still wide with shock. His gaze trailed down to where Halde's body lay on the ground. “You... She's...”

But the roar of bomber engines interrupted Dom's dazed realization. Adrestin picked Dom up off the ground and thrust him at Erion. “Get him inside! He shouldn't be out here. I'll take care of the fighters.”

With a sharp nod, Erion wrapped their arms around Dom's waist and dragged him backwards, towards the relative safety of the domed infirmary building. <Come on. Quickly. Get your feet under you.>

Dom numbly obeyed, though he kept glancing back to where Halde lay in the dust. He caught a brief glimpse of Adrestin kneeling to pick up something beside her before he turned to face the four Jedi bombers bearing down on his location, but just then Erion had managed to pull him inside and the doors blocked his view.

It was quiet inside – most of the people taking refuge there were down below them, further underground. The thick clay walls of the building kept much of the noise of the battle outside from reaching Dom's ears, and in the quiet Dom's adrenaline rush finally gave out. He sagged in Erion's arms.

Erion eased him to lean against the wall, keeping one hand by his side to support him. <You should be more careful. She would have killed you if she had gotten the chance.>

He nodded, slowly. “I know. I was... I thought she _had_ gotten that chance. I was ready to die. Defending a Sith colony.”

<Or you could have killed her, instead.>

Dom shook his head. “I'm not good enough for that. But I would have tried, if I had to. Defending my friends.” He smiled sadly, and tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. “It still hurts, seeing Jedi die.”

Erion used their good hand to brush at the corner of one of Dom's eyes with their thumb. <That is why you would never make a good Sith.>

But the ground suddenly lurched below them, and the tell-tale rumble of Dark Side power was felt more than heard. Startled, Dom leaned forward to push open one of the doors so he could see what was happening outside. Erion tried to block his way, and forced themselves between Dom and the threshold. <This is something you should not see.>

But Dom peered up over Erion's shoulder anyway.

Adrestin was standing alone, his lightsabers once again sheathed and his arms held out in front of him. The dust and haze in the air had been whipped into a frenzy, kicked up from the engines of the four BrightWatch bombers hovering just above the ground in front of the lone Sith Lord. Even Adrestin looked tiny as the Jedi fighters beared down on him, and Dom's heart leapt to his throat in worry.

But Adrestin needed no assurance and no assistance, for the Dark Side was strong with him. Its strength flowed in and through him, roiling around his form in a whirlwind of sheer power. The stones rose from the ground as Adrestin summoned the Dark Side to do his bidding, and heavy stormclouds coalesced in the sky overhead. Two of the Jedi bombers faltered in their approach, then fled. But the two remaining craft continued to circle ever closer to Adrestin, their weapons coming up to set him in their sights.

The stormclouds clashed in the sky and a rain of lightning suddenly tore down from above, crashing down on the fighters and sending arcs of electricity coursing over their hulls. Volley after volley pounded them mercilessly, shorting out their electronics and overwhelming their controls.

The wind was the finishing blow. Coming down like a pinpoint tornado with a roar of a hundred krayt dragons, it shredded metal and shattered transparisteel, leaving very little left to blow away but chaff and ash. Slowly, the storm dissipated. It left nothing but the cold rumble of the Dark Side in its wake, and Dom shivered as he stared, wide-eyed in Erion's arms.

He was shaken. He could recall the feelings of dread he had first experienced when he and Astele had been sheltering in a tree to avoid the Hssiss, back at the Sith shrine. He remembered how that shrine had been completely obliterated from orbit by an angry and grieving Adrestin, and he shuddered at the recollection.

Erion shifted beside him. <We should get back indoors.>

Dom nodded mutely and obeyed, allowing Erion to usher him back inside. “I should – I should go help the wounded. More will come in.”

Erion let him go, watching him in silence as he retreated down the ramp to the halls of the infirmary below.

 

* * * * * *

 

“I'm just saying, he could have waited until _after_ I had a chance to do, well, _anything,”_ Astele huffed, her arms crossed and ears back while Dom attempted to apply a salve to a gash across her face. “But noooo, Lord _Belus_ has to come in with his _whirlwind of death and doom_ and just sweep everything away! _Including_ my hard work, by the way. Those cannons were ready to go, too! I could have _shot_ the bombers down, why does he have to – _auughh,_ it's so frustrating!”

She threw her hands in the air and glared over at Adrestin, who was leaning against the door jamb of the little room they had gathered in, down one of the infirmary halls. _“Honestly,_ am I the only one that doesn't have to get all _fancy_ with things around here?”

Dom had followed her glare over to Adrestin, but dropped his eyes before he could meet his gaze. He turned his attention back to Astele, and caught her gently by the chin. “Could you just _hold still_ for a second? I'm almost done.”

Adrestin tilted his head to the side in an unasked question to Dom, but waved his hands in apology to Astele. “I am sorry for ruining your progress. It was not my intention.”

“Ugh. Yeah, whatever. You'll help me fix up the cannons though, right Dom?”

Dom mumbled some sort of vague agreement as he kept trying to apply the salve, but studiously ignored Adrestin's cocked head and raised eyebrow.

Erion rose from where they were hovering beside Astele, and gestured to Adrestin. <I need to talk to you. Outside.>

Adrestin obediently followed them out the door, and Erion led him around the corner just out of earshot from Dom and Astele. <You should talk to your Jedi.>

“I am assuming that his renewed apprehension is because I just killed his old comrade, not more than a few hours ago. I do intend to talk to him, when he is ready.”

<He saw you summon the Force storm as well.>

Adrestin frowned. “I see.”

<He needs assurance. I cannot give it, that has always been your prerogative.>

“You don't give yourself enough credit, Eri,” and Adrestin let himself smile, “But I will talk with him. Though I'm sure he would appreciate your newfound concern for him.”

<I am sure.> Erion rolled their eyes and ducked back inside the infirmary room.

Adrestin shrugged and followed suit, beckoning to Dom as he entered. “Could we talk, for a moment?”

Dom cast his eyes back down to the floor, but nodded. He mutely left the room and followed Adrestin back down the hall and up the ramp to the balcony of the infirmary building, wringing his hands as they walked.

Once they were alone on the balcony, Adrestin crouched down to meet Dom at his eye level and tilted his head to one side. “Are you doing alright?”

Dom sighed. He crossed his arms and leaned against the railing, looking down to watch the people milling around below. “Yeah... I think so. I just... I just forget sometimes, how... how powerful and _scary_ you are. You can be.”

Adrestin nodded, thoughtful. “When the lives of those I care about are threatened, I will stop at nothing to protect them. That includes Astele and Erion, and Niam, and the people of this colony by proxy, because Niam cares about them. And it also includes you, Dom.”

Dom's horns coloured another shade of purple as he nodded, but he still stared down at the floor below.

“I am sorry for your comrades, Dom. That you saw them die. I did not want that to happen, I would never wish for you to have to see –”

“It's okay.” His gaze flicked to the side, to where a BrightWatch lightsaber now hung from Adrestin's belt. “I... I know you killed Halde because my life was on the line. You were protecting me. And everyone here. I would have... I would have done the same, or tried to, if I had been in your place."

Adrestin raised an eyebrow in surprise, though Dom didn't see it. “You would have killed one of your own?”

Dom sighed and ran a hand over his face, but nodded slowly as he finally turned to look up at Adrestin. “If I had no other choice, yeah. I would have tried. If it meant keeping everyone safe. The Jedi aren't in the _right,_ here. These are families and farmers, not warriors. Just people trying to live their lives. There's no sense in what BrightWatch is doing. It's _wrong._ And I can't... I can't just stand by and let them ruin these people's lives for no reason.”

Adrestin gave him a small smile. “Some would say that being Sith is reason enough.”

“Yeah well, they're wrong.” Dom huffed and crossed his arms, once again leaning on the railing to watch the people moving below. “There's... nothing inherently _bad_ about being a Sith, just like there's nothing inherently _good_ about being a Jedi. We're all just _people,_ wearing different labels.”

Adrestin leaned on the railing as well and reached over to run a hand over Dom's shoulders, his smile growing wider. “There is much wisdom in you in such few words, Domthus. I wish the leadership of both our allegiances would learn such things.”

Dom's horns mottled a deeper shade of purple, and he tentatively leaned sideways to rest his head against Adrestin. “I sure don't feel wise.”

“Mm.” Adrestin curled his arm around Dom and gently pressed him against his side, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Wise people rarely do.”

“...Adrestin?”

“Hm?”

“Can we just... stay here for a little while? It's quiet.”

Adrestin nodded, nuzzling Dom's horns. “As long as you like.”

 

* * * * * * *

 

“Are you sure? Sure it was him?”

The flickering hologram of BrightWatch's interim commander wavered as she nodded. “It was him, Sivin. I have visual confirmation from two of our fighters. Domthus was spotted on BrightWatch's last raid on a Sith colony world, where we have a lead that there is a Sith idol containing several of their ancient leaders' ashes. He was with two Sith – one giant reptilian, and one in a repulsor harness and environmental suit.”

Sivin's gaze flicked from the commander's hologram to Zarinne standing beside him, and then to the pair of Jedi Masters holding the hologram transmitter. “What happened during the raid?”

One of the pair shook his head. “It went badly. We lost three of our bombers, and there have been several injuries. Halde Digar is dead. We have confirmation that she engaged Domthus in a lightsaber duel right before she was killed. He was defending the previously mentioned Sith, and the Sith were defending him.” He offered Sivin a small recording device.

Sivin nodded as he took it and flicked it on, heart pounding in his chest as he watched the miniaturized recording of Dom battling Halde, both lightsabers in hand. His throat ran dry as the unmistakable forms of Erion and Adrestin came into the frame, but he flicked it off right as Adrestin lit his lightsaber. “And what do you want of me?”

He could feel Zarinne take his hand in one of her tentacles as the two Jedi Masters exchanged a glance with one another, and he tightened his grip to brace himself for their response.

“The Council requests that you look into it personally, Commander Ikalruq. You know Domthus, and you have... experience with these Sith. You are the best and only choice.”

Inwardly he was screaming. Fear and anxiety coursed through him in waves, but outwardly he only nodded. “Of course I'll do as the Council requests.”

Both Jedi Masters looked almost relieved. “You will be provided with a shuttle and whatever supplies you require. Leave for the Sith colony at your earliest convenience.”

Once again Sivin nodded, and the two Jedi Masters bowed as they took their leave. Sivin watched them go, wondering if the thudding of his heart sounded as loud to them as it did to his own ears.

Once they were alone Zarinne turned to look up at him, and reached up to grip one of his arms in one of her tentacles. “Are you alright? Sivin?”

He flashed her a smile, but there were tears in his eyes. “I don't... know, Zar. I don't think I... I don't think I can do this.”

She stared up at him, gentleness in her yellow eyes. “You know what you have to do, Siv. No one can make you do it, and no one can do it for you. The Force is giving you an opportunity, to confront this head on. To resolve your doubts, once and for all.” She gently squeezed his arm. “I'll be there with you, if you want me to be. You know I will support you any way I can.”

Sivin stared down at his grip on her tentacle, and let out a weak laugh. “I'll... think on it. I have to go... pack.”

She released him and nodded. “Take a little time to center yourself before you do anything else, Siv. You already know in your heart what you need to do.”

“Mm. Thank you, Zar.” He turned and made his way down the hall, hoping the tears clouding his sight weren't as obvious as the waver in his voice. He turned the corner and practically ran the rest of the way to his room, slamming the door shut with the Force as he threw himself against the wall. Slowly sliding down to crouch on the floor, he drew his knees up to his chest and cried into his arms.

Ever since Gleiir, he had known what he had to do to free himself from his doubt and his confusion. He knew that someday he would have to confront everything that had happened ever since he had let Adrestin save his life at that Sith shrine, and no matter how much he wished that it wasn't so, that day was coming.

His breath hitched as he pulled his lightsaber from his belt and turned it over in his hands. _“'...There is no death, there is the Force.'”_

But the words held no comfort. He dropped his head to his knees and sobbed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are coming to a head, here.


	24. In Which There Is An Inevitable Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sivin is having second thoughts about the Council's request, and he asks Zarinne for some help. Meanwhile, Dom is helping out at the Sith colony by Adrestin's side. He is settling in well enough, but then someone arrives that no one expected...

A knock came on Siv's door, followed by the soft voice of Zarinne. “Sivin? You said you wanted to see me?”

The door opened, and Zarinne stepped into the dim confines of Siv's tiny room, the only light filtering in through the slats in the blinds that partially covered the window. Sivin sat cross-legged on his bed, hands folded as he slowly rubbed his thumbs against each other. He raised his head to meet her gaze.

“Siv – what's wrong?” She rushed to his side, alarmed by his weary gaze and red, swollen eyes. “You've been crying.”

“I don't... I don't think I can do this yet, Zar. I'm not ready. I can't... I can't even think straight. Everything hurts.”

She knelt down beside him and took his hands in her tentacles. “I'm so sorry, Sivin. I can't imagine how hard this must be for you. I keep thinking about how harsh and cruel that Sith Lord seemed to me, but I know he was kind to you. The thought of having to confront him must be torture.”

He gave her a weak smile. “I don't think anything's hurt more in my life. And that... that's a pretty bad sign, eh?”

Her facial tentacles drooped, and she matched his sad smile with one of her own. “This is probably going to be the hardest thing you have ever had to do. You know I will do anything I can to help. I could go with you...”

He shook his head. “No, Zar. If I can manage to do this, I need to do it alone. But thank you.”

“Is there anything else I could do, though? Anything at all.”

Sivin stared long at her, but eventually sighed and his shoulders slumped. “There is... something I know I need help with. I've been putting it off ever since I came back to Coruscant, hoping that I wouldn't have to do it. But I think at this point it's a necessity.”

She frowned, worry making her face tentacles twitch. “What is it, Siv?”

He closed his eyes and took a deep, trembling breath. “I... Need you to come with me, to meet with the Jedi Council.”

Zarinne's eyes went wide, and she tightened her grip on Siv's hands. “They can help you, Sivin. If no one else in the galaxy would be able, I know they can. There's deep meditation the Masters can put you in, that will put you in tune with the will of the Force in ways that single practice could never match. After all, their wisdom could even change the heart of Revan, and return them to the right path. Imagine what they can do for _you.”_

He opened his eyes and gazed down at Zarinne, one last tear falling down his cheek. “I know. I just... it's strange, how I am almost... afraid.”

Zarinne gave him a warm and gentle smile. “There is nothing to fear. The Jedi Order is your family and your life. They would never steer you wrong.”

His heart clenched but he nodded, trying hard to match her smile. “Would you... walk with me? To the Meeting Chambers?”

“Of course.”

 

* * * * * * *

 

<How are we doing?>

Dom glanced up as Erion leaned over his shoulder, squinting down at the slowly scrolling display. He shrugged and gestured at the screen. “Well, better than I thought we'd be doing. Ziardel and Nodieg just got released from intensive care, but Issan's still touch and go. The twins are doing just fine, they went home last week.” He sighed. “But we lost Nerebel.”

Erion nodded and reached forward to tap the screen, switching displays from the infirmary feed to the structural one. <You cannot save everyone, Dom.>

“I know, I know.” He huffed and leaned back in his chair, tired of working on reports. “It just hurts, wondering if I could have done more. And their families...”

<No one blames you, either.> Erion paged through line after line of updates on the status of farms and houses, which ones were still extensively damaged and which ones had been rebuilt.

“I... guess not. But I still have a lot to make up for. I used to be _with_ the same group of Jedi that attacked them. Destroyed their homes. Killed loved ones...”

<But that was not you. And everyone knows it.> Erion flicked off the display with a twist of their wrist, and pulled Dom's chair back. <The whole colony appreciates what you've been doing these past few weeks. Stop moping and go help Astele with her ballistics tests.>

Dom couldn't help but smile as Erion shoved him out of his chair and shooed him out the door. “Okay, okay, I'm going. Is Niam with her?”

<He is. Go on.>

Dom obediently ducked out the door with a wave, and made his way across the colony to the edge of the town. It was a short walk, but even in the few moments he was outside he was already waved at and greeted by a handful of Sith colonists.

It had been a strange and wild ride, the past three weeks since the Jedi had attacked. Dom had spent his time divided between assisting in the infirmary and helping Astele out with mechanical repairs and construction. He had found that he had a passion for healing people, and with Adrestin's guiding hand he was learning new healing techniques and ways to stave off and alleviate pain. It was fascinating work, though he still balked at learning the more intensive treatments because the Dark Side welled up from them like boiling oil.

The Sith colonists themselves seemed to like him well enough – he was particularly popular with the kids, and no one seemed to care too much that he practically reeked of the Light Side. Some of the older farmers would wince and avert their eyes in his presence, but they were still friendly and polite, and the few that raised their eyebrows at him had only to look to Adrestin for confirmation that Dom was indeed here intentionally.

It was a strange feeling, being accepted so readily by a people he had assumed would be hostile. Yet here he was, a Jedi Knight abandoned by his Order, being welcomed by Sith. He smiled to himself at the thought, and his smile broadened into a grin as he neared the bank of surface-to-air turbolasers that Astele and Niam were sitting on the ground in front of. “Hey! Erion said you needed help with some testing?”

Both Astele and Niam looked up from the datapad they had been hunched over, and Niam jumped up from where he had been sitting to drape an arm over Dom's shoulders. “Heya sweetheart! Doodlebug was just about to start our first test run. How about you and the old goat load up in the fighters and give us some target practice?”

Dom snorted and rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. “Yeah, once you figure out how to set a turbolaser to _stun._ What can I _actually_ help with?”

Astele shrugged and pointed at the datapad. “Actually, not much. I think Master Eri just wanted you out in the fresh air for a while, you've been cooped up in the infirmary for _hours_ even when there's nothing else you can do. _Stars, g_ ive yourself a break every now and again.”

“I honestly wouldn't call this 'fresh air', but okay.” He waved a hand at the perpetual dusty haze all around them. “Where did Adrestin go off to?”

Astele glanced up at Niam, who gestured vaguely to the south. “I think the boss went for a walk. It's almost sunset, so I bet he's off doing his routine. Oh, wait – no there he is, he's coming back.”

And sure enough, Adrestin's form materialized from the haze down the dusty road that led through the partially-reconstructed farms. But he was running. As soon as he spotted the trio, he thrust out one hand and gestured sharply to the settlement. _“Get inside!”_

Both Astele and Niam jumped in alarm and as Adrestin approached, the wailing call of the emergency siren sounded off. All four of them made for the nearest set of buildings even as the shadow of a spacecraft grew overhead. They could see Erion emerging from the infirmary building, their repulsor harness speeding them along as they rushed up to meet Adrestin.

<We just saw it on the sensors. It is a single shuttle, but...>

“Not one of our own.” Adrestin slowed and turned, watching as the shadow of the ship grew into a rough outline, then emerged from the haze as it landed. He pulled himself between his comrades and the ship, and readied his hands at his lightsabers.

The sharp lines of BrightWatch's logo stood out starkly on the hull, and Dom's mouth ran dry as the ramp slowly came down. Steam hissed on either side as the metal met the ground, and a single figure stepped down from the ship.

The Force was fiercely bright around him, shining and still, like the cold distant light of a dying star. Even the sound of the siren seemed to drown itself out as he stepped from the shadow of the shuttle. His lightsaber was already drawn and ignited, held low and steady. There was no expression on his face as his eyes met Adrestin's, only a calm regard and blank stare.

Adrestin shifted his stance, but made no move to approach. “...Sivin. What happened to you?”

Dom very nearly ran out from behind Adrestin to greet the other Jedi but Adrestin held him back with one hand, giving a single shake of his head in warning before facing Siv. He seemed... different. Strange. Reaching out with the Force, Adrestin felt nothing but bright and void.

…He was dangerous.

With that as Adrestin's only warning, Siv swept his lightsaber in front of him and charged forward, arcing it over his head as he leapt into the air, intent clear on cleaving Adrestin's skull in two. Just in time Adrestin pulled his own blades from his belt with the Force and ignited them in his hands, crossing them to block the strike. Siv ducked away almost immediately and spun to sweep low, aiming for Adrestin's knees. He sidestepped the blow and brought both blades up to guard, calling to his companions behind him. “Back away! Eri, get them inside!”

Behind Adrestin, Niam had picked up Astele and was slowly creeping backwards, eyes riveted on his old master as he watched him fight. A handful of colonists had emerged from their refuges in the buildings to watch the fight, and Niam turned to shake his head at their unspoken offer of assistance. Eri had a hand on Dom's shoulder, and was tugging him backwards through the street in an attempt to get him to safety. But Dom resisted, shaking his head furiously. “This can't be happening. Sivin! What's wrong?! Why are you doing this?”

But Siv ignored Dom's call. His carefully neutral expression never changed, and his attack on Adrestin renewed with vigor. He swept in again, throwing strikes in a flurry of movement assisted by the Force. Adrestin blocked and parried, and twice he managed to throw his weight against Sivin with enough force to shove him backwards. But each time Siv shook it off and came right back at him, never relenting and never easing his pace. Once again he leapt into the air to attempt a vertical strike, and this time Adrestin used the Force to shove him away mid-leap, tumbling him backwards and knocking him to one knee. “Sivin, please! What is wrong? What happened? I will help you if I can.”

Sivin merely shook his head as he got back to his feet, advancing once again. “I went to the Council for help, as I should have from the start. The only way _you_ can help me is by freeing me from the final vestiges of attachment.”

Adrestin blocked another blow and held Siv's blade between his own crossed lightsabers. “And to do so, I must die? Is that it?”

Siv merely looked up at him with a flat stare. _“'There is no death, there is the Force.'”_

“So you said the last time we crossed blades. You didn't believe it then, and I doubt you believe it now.”

Siv just blinked up at him and twisted his lightsaber to the side, just barely managing to wrench it free of Adrestin's hold. He came at him once again, blue-green blade flashing against Adrestin's and drawing sparks with each contact. His strikes came with withering speed, each faster than the last as he pressed his onslaught.

But still Adrestin refused to counterattack. He retreated back and to the side, slowly leading their fight away from where Erion and the others still stood. “Please, Sivin. We don't have to fight.”

But Sivin didn't acknowledge Adrestin's words. He threw himself into another series of strikes, ducking and twisting as he swept his blade. One lucky strike gave him a glancing blow off of Adrestin's arm, nicking through his scales and searing his flesh. Adrestin winced, but the wound itself was shallow. He shifted his stance and reversed the grip on one of his blades, parrying another of Sivin's attacks.

But the hit against Adrestin was about all Dom could take. He wrenched himself free of Erion's grip and ran up to the two as they fought. Just as Adrestin managed to shove Siv away once again, Dom stepped between the two of them. _“Stop this!_ Siv! _Please,_ you've got to –”

But Sivin had already twisted back around for another strike, and his blade drove forward. Before he could stop his own momentum his lightsaber pierced Dom's chest, driving straight through his right side.

Time seemed to slow. Dom stared up at Sivin with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open as he tried to take in a breath that wouldn't come. The look of blank neutrality finally melted from Sivin's face and he extinguished his blade as an anguished cry escaped from him. Dom wavered and fell, dropping to his knees before crumpling to the ground, unmoving.

The only sound that came to anyone's ears was the deep thrumming of the Dark Side's power. Adrestin stared down at Dom's body, then riveted on Siv as he bared his teeth in rage and lunged for him. The dust and the haze around them froze in place and once again the stones rose from the ground as Adrestin's anger took physical form, and the air itself grew thick as he threw himself against Sivin with a bellowing snarl.

Sivin's blade came up reactively, and he found himself barely managing to block Adrestin's furious blows. The corruption in the Sith Lord's eyes blazed with his rage, and the clouds rumbled overhead as he called upon the Dark Side even as he pressed his onslaught against Sivin. The _crack-boom_ of thunder echoed across the sky, and Adrestin's power once again manifested itself in a roiling, heaving mass of shadow and lightning. It fell from the sky, assaulting every sense in the Force with anger and grief. It made impact with Sivin's shuttle, and the whirlwind it spawned twisted and tore the metal into nothing but slag and detritus as it threw it high into the air.

But Adrestin wasn't finished. The fury of his onslaught against Sivin quickly overwhelmed the Jedi, costing him two of the tendrils on his head as Adrestin's blades flew at his face. One over-estimated parry and Sivin's saber was cleaved in two, and Adrestin dropped one of his own blades to lunge forward and grab his wrist in his clawed hand. His grip was like a vice, and he forced Sivin to the ground as Adrestin's remaining blade came up mere centimeters from Sivin's neck.

Adrestin pinned him there, straddling Siv's waist as his blade came slowly closer to the flesh of Siv's throat. His fury and despair were palpable through the Force, wrapped up in the Dark Side and roiling all around him. Yet Sivin's own despair screamed just as loud. Tears streamed down his face, the shock of what he had just done leaving him breathless and agape.

But Erion's voice cut through Adrestin's red-rimmed rage and the roiling of the Dark Side. <He's not dead! He's _not dead! > _

Adrestin broke out of his wrath-induced haze long enough to turn, and there behind him Erion had knelt in the dust, cradling Dom's head and shoulders on their lap. Niam crouched beside them, the blue-white light of Force healing illuminating the gap in Dom's chest. Astele stood next to them, ears flat back and tears matting up her fur as she wrung her hands.

But Dom's chest rose and fell, in short, irregular gasps. His lung had been punctured by Sivin's blade and blood trickled from his mouth as his eyes stared vacantly up at the sky, but he was alive.

Adrestin dragged himself off of Sivin and extinguished his remaining blade. Crawling over to Dom's side, he took one of his hands in his own and added his own power to Niam's.

Behind them, the handful of colonists that had gathered before were returning. Once they had seen Dom fall they had rushed back to the infirmary, and now they dragged life support equipment with them along with a grav-stretcher. With Niam's help they loaded Dom onto it and rushed him down the street to the infirmary, and Astele followed close behind. Both Adrestin and Erion watched them go, but a motion and a shuffle behind them made them turn.

Sivin stood beside them, the pieces of his lightsaber recovered and held loosely in his hand. His face was a mess of emotions, grief and guilt and despair finally breaking through and mingling with the tears that streaked down his face. Blood oozed from the partially-cauterized ends of the tendrils that Adrestin had severed, but Siv paid it no mind. Exhausted and devastated, he wavered where he stood, about ready to collapse. He dropped the pieces of his lightsaber at Adrestin's feet and just stood there, lost and alone.

Both Adrestin and Erion turned to fully face him, and Erion rose on their repulsor harness to meet Sivin at his eye level. They practically vibrated with fury, and the Dark Side welled up all around Erion as they leaned in close and snarled in Sivin's face. <If he dies, _Jedi,_ I will _kill you. >_

Yet Sivin just stared at Erion as though he didn't even comprehend that words had been spoken. Adrestin reached out a hand and curled his arm around Erion's shoulders, drawing them to his side. He turned and led them back down the street towards the infirmary, glancing back but once at Sivin. An unreadable look crossed his face, the fire of Dark Side corruption still blazing hot in his eyes.

As Adrestin and Erion vanished into the haze and dust of the settlement's streets, Sivin dropped to his knees in despair. His tears muddied the dirt as he sobbed, and he clutched his hands to his face. “What have I _done...”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was... difficult to write. Please don't kill me for making these poor beans suffer


	25. In Which An Explanation Is Forthcoming, If Not Palatable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom has been taken to the infirmary under life-support, leaving Sivin alone outside. Hours go by before one of the Sith from the colony approaches, cautiously, and Sivin is told that someone wants to talk to him.

Hours must have come and gone since the devastation and shock of the lightsaber battle, but Sivin wasn't really aware of their passing. Above the dust and haze of the colony the stars had come out, and the evening calls of the desert animals filled the air. Sivin was deaf to them – he still remained where he had dropped to his knees, but he had run out of tears. Now he only sat, staring blankly up at the sky.

Through the Force Sivin became vaguely aware that one of the Sith from the colony was cautiously approaching, but he made no effort to acknowledge his presence. The Sith cleared his throat as he came within a few meters of Sivin and shifted from foot to foot. “Hey. Uh. Sivin Ikalruq? I'm Niam.” He waited for some sort of acknowledgment, and muttered under his breath when he didn't get a response. “Stars, you're a tank. You're still bleeding and you don't even notice. Man, why did I get stuck with this job?” He took a couple steps closer and spoke a little louder. _“Sivin Ikalruq._ Sivin? Hey, _Tank._ Get up, come with me. He's asking for you.”

Sivin blinked once, coming only slightly to his senses. He struggled to his feet, staggering a little as he stood. Gesturing for the Jedi to follow, Niam turned and went back the way he had come. Sivin dazedly followed him down the deserted streets of the settlement, dimly aware of the curling wisps of Dark Side power that pervaded the town. The Sith led him to the low, partially domed building of the infirmary, and opened the door to let him in. “Follow me. Stay close – you just scared the shit out of my people, and I don't need another fight on our hands.”

Siv barely managed a nod, and as they moved down the ramp and through the tunnel halls the few people that were still milling around jumped out of their way as they passed. They all stared nervous and wide-eyed at Siv, each person wrapping the Dark Side protectively around them like an invisible shield.

Niam led him to one of the many nondescript doors off to the side and slid it open, gesturing inside. Siv swallowed hard before peeking in, and flinched when he saw the familiar faces staring back at him. Adrestin and Erion stood on either side of an infirmary bed, the fire in their eyes still lit by the Dark Side corruption. Astele sat on a pillow at the head of the bed, curled in on herself and one tiny hand clenching and unclenching close to the lightsaber at her side. Her own eyes blazed the brightest, and she narrowed her stare when Sivin took a hesitant step into the room. He dropped his gaze, unable to look any of them in the eye. But he flinched the hardest when he looked at Dom, lying on the infirmary bed.

He lay there surrounded by life support equipment, and ugly metal cybernetics cleaved to his chest, enabling him to breathe. A respirator unit was strapped over his mouth and nose, and for a long moment the only sound in the room was the click and hum of the mechanical pumping of Dom's new artificial lung.

But slowly – ever so slowly – Dom opened his eyes and extended one shaky hand, palm up, to Sivin.

Whatever remained of the block the Jedi Council's intense meditation had placed in Sivin's mind dissolved in the flood of tears that suddenly fell from Siv's eyes. He took the last couple of steps and dropped to his knees beside Dom's bed. He took the offered hand in both of his, and pressed it to his forehead before speaking in a broken whisper to the floor. “I'm sorry – gods, I'm so sorry Dom...” His voice cracked and he swallowed hard, still mouthing “Dom, I'm so sorry...” as the tears took over once again.

Dom squeezed his hand, and he rasped Sivin's name. The mechanical sounds of his new vocoder gave his voice a hollow metallic ring, but even though it was rough and strained it was still full of warmth. “Sivin... who did this to you?”

Siv's tears wouldn't stop coming, and he just shook his head helplessly. The anguish, confusion, guilt, and fear that he thought he had been purged of back at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant came flooding back all at once, and all he could do was bow his head to Dom's hand. He kissed it once before releasing it, then sank to the floor and broke down sobbing in despair.

Adrestin had been standing in silence beside Dom's bed, but as he watched Sivin overwhelm himself with tears he took a step forward. He reached out a clawed hand and gripped one of Sivin's shoulders, and when Siv jerked up in surprise Adrestin crouched down himself to engulf him in an embrace. The low-frequency sound of his soothing vibrations filled the room, and he curled one hand up through Siv's remaining tendrils at the back of his head.

Siv froze for a moment, suddenly forgetting how to breathe at the shock of Adrestin's sudden embrace. But slowly he reached his hands up to return it – tentatively at first, then fiercely. He threw himself into Adrestin's arms and cried into his neck, releasing all of the anguish he had been feeling from the moment he had to leave Adrestin's presence until now.

On the other side of Dom's bed, Erion scoffed. But Dom turned up his eyes to look at them, shaking his head as he managed to rasp out a few more words. “Let them be – Siv needs this. We... we all do.”

He leaned towards Erion, who heaved an irritated sigh and reached down with their good hand to stroke Dom's horns. <You are too quick to forgive.>

Dom would have smiled if his mouth hadn't been strapped so tightly to the respirator unit. Instead he settled for reaching up to cover Erion's hand with his own. “It was an accident. There's nothing to forgive.”

Erion snorted. <His coming here and attacking Adrestin was no accident. He was _sent._ By his _Jedi Council. >_

Down on the floor, Sivin flinched at the mention of the Council. He pulled away from Adrestin just enough to be able to look up at him, though he only held his gaze for the briefest of moments. “...Erion is right. I –” His voice broke again, and he rubbed furiously at his eyes. “I was supposed to... I was supposed to kill you. All of you. And – and bring Dom back to the Council. For... judgment.”

Astele sat up and flattened her ears back, putting a protective hand on Dom's shoulder. “You're not gonna, are you?”

Siv couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye. He shook his head, still staring at the floor. “I can't do it.” He took a shaky breath. “...I thought I could, for a while there. They tried to get rid of all my doubts, all my hesitations. They filled me with the will of the Force. It should have purged everything but the Light. But...”

“But it's _not_ the will of the Force.” Dom choked out the words, and tried to sit up. Erion pressed him back down to the bed, shaking their head as Dom huffed in frustration. Instead Dom gestured down at Siv, coaxing him to stand. He sighed. “It's not the will of the Force, Siv. It's _wrong._ The Jedi Council is _wrong._ BrightWatch is _wrong._ They've been using you and lying to you.”

Both Adrestin and Siv rose from where they had been crouched on the floor, and Adrestin raised the brows over one set of eyes at Dom's words. But he remained silent, only watched Sivin out of the corner of his eye.

But Dom wasn't done. He coughed into his vocoder, still unused to having to speak around so much metal. “BrightWatch bombed a farming colony. On Jedi Council orders. People died here, Sivin. Not Sith Lords intent on killing Jedi, not warriors or assassins – farmers. Kids. _Families._ BrightWatch was supposed to be made of iconoclasts, nothing more. But now they're no better than the Knights of Gallar. Is this what the Jedi Order is turning into?”

The effort of speaking left Dom breathless, and he flopped back into his pillow in a fit of coughing. Erion adjusted the controls on his new cybernetics and stroked one hand over his forehead, trying to calm him. They glanced up at Adrestin, a knowing and wary look in their eyes. Adrestin curled his arm around Siv's shoulders, one pair of eyes riveted on his expression as he waited for Siv's response.

Sivin was rigid in Adrestin's arms. He looked mortified that Dom had said what he did, but the look of horror slowly melted into hopeless resignation. “It's... always been that way, Dom. The Order. The Council. They've never changed. This is how they've been from the start.”

The flat look in Dom's eyes made Sivin cringe. Dom shifted his position on the bed and shook his head. “If that is true, then I want nothing more to do with them. I rescind my title of Jedi Knight, if I haven't lost it already. I'm done.”

Siv's mouth dropped open, but he had no words to say. The whole room seemed unnaturally still, even the click and hiss of Dom's artificial lung sounded muted. Each one in the room stole glances at the others, wondering what to say.

It was Erion who broke the sudden silence, though not with words. Their eyes crinkled up at their corners as a slow smile grew behind their rebreather. Dom looked up and caught it, and his horns flushed a deeper shade of purple. “I know, I know. You're proud of me. Thanks.” He coughed and wheezed once again, but his own grin behind his respirator was unmistakable.

Adrestin nodded once and smiled at both Erion and Dom. “As am I. You are very brave, Domthus. You always have been.”

Again Dom's horns mottled in shy embarrassment, and Astele laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “And one day you'll even learn how to take a compliment.”

Adrestin chuckled, but his smile faded as he still felt the tension in Sivin beside him. Suddenly very aware of the sting in his wounded shoulder, he pulled away slightly from Siv so he could look down at him. “I think we need to talk. Alone.”

 

* * * * * *

 

“The signal just went dead.”

Zarinne leaned forward from where she sat in the command center, her facial tentacles lying flat against her head in alarm. “What do you mean, dead?”

The war room monitor shook his head and gestured with one hand to a comm unit on the other side of the room, willing it into his hand with the Force. “I mean _dead._ It's gone. The ship has been destroyed. I'll notify the Council.”

Her yellow eyes grew wide. “But he landed. He confirmed that he was on the ground.”

A shrug from the other Jedi. “I don't know what to tell you. Someone blew up his ship. Whether he is alive or dead remains to be seen.” He flicked on the comm and spoke into it, requesting the presence of one of the Council.

Zarinne sat back with a thump, her heart pounding in her chest. _There is no way Sivin could be dead,_ she thought fiercely to herself, _I would have felt it. He's still alive, and now he is out there alone, once again stranded in Sith space. I should never have let him go without me._

The doors to the command center slid open, and Jedi Master Iseila Vansl strode in. She gave a quick nod to Zarinne before briefly turning her attention to the war room monitor. “The Council received your message. If the signal from Ikalruq's shuttle died so soon after he reported a landing, we can only assume that the ship was destroyed in the ensuing fight. We knew he was going there to confront the Sith, and honestly I am not surprised.”

Zarinne rose from her seat, a flare of anger making her tentacles writhe. But she took a deep breath before speaking, and her words were calmer than she felt. “That doesn't mean he is dead.”

“You are absolutely right.” Iseila reached out a hand to grasp Zarinne's shoulder. “And if he is alive, he could be in great peril. And here is where the Council recognizes its previous mistakes. We left Sivin in enemy territory before, with faith that the Force would guide him. That proved to be a grave error. We cannot leave him there again. He is too important to the Order – his face is our face. The Republic has attached much significance to his presence and reputation, ever since he came to us so long ago. You know this better than anyone, Zarinne. It would be a blight upon the entire Jedi Order if we lost him now.”

Zarinne nodded, an unexplainable unease at Iseila's words making her facial tentacles flatten back. “Is there anything I can do?”

“There is indeed.” Iseila looped her arm under one of Zarinne's tentacles and walked with her to the other end of the room, handing her a communicator as they went. “The Council requests that you go to the Sith colony and investigate the situation. If Ikalruq is alive, bring him back to Coruscant. Whether or not he has achieved his objective. We will provide you a small stealth fighter. Do not engage the Sith. Get in, get out. Bring him back. Questions?”

A frown crossed Zarinne's face, but she shook her head. Iseila raised a single eyebrow and tightened her grip on Zar's arm ever so slightly. “You know as well as I do that the Order and the Republic are in a critical situation at the moment. The war is escalating. There is rumor that the Sith war machine is preparing for a major assault.”

Alarm made Zarinne's face tentacles tremble. “But the peace talks, on Alderaan –”

“All the more incentive to bring Ikalruq back.” Iseila's voice dropped to a quiet but intense murmur. “We need him _here._ He is the face of morale within the Jedi Order and the face of positive public relations with the common folk of the Republic. Do you really want public support of the Jedi to falter when we are at such a critical stage?”

Zarinne shook her head. “Of course not. And you know I will gladly go. How soon am I leaving?”

Iseila gave her a quick nod, satisfaction on her face. “As soon as you are ready.”

Returning the nod, Zarinne tucked the communicator Iseila had given her into the pocket of her robes. “Alright, I'm ready. Point me in the direction of the landing bay.”

A grim smile spread over Iseila's face as she clapped Zarinne on her shoulder. “You do the Jedi Order proud, Zarinne.”

 

* * * * * * *

 

Sivin and Adrestin walked through the dark empty streets of the settlement, each flicking their gaze over at the other every few moments. The dust in the air hadn't thinned, but the pink light of triple moons in full phase filtered down through the haze to illuminate their steps. They wandered far out into the partially restored fields, past irrigation canals and moisture vaporators, until they had skirted the last low stone wall that marked the limits of the colony's land. The rolling hills of rocky ground and scrubland stretched out before them, broken by patches of thorn-trees and groves of esperwood where the streams flowed.

Siv had tried five or six times to start a simple sentence, but he couldn't bring himself to break the silence between them. Truthfully, he didn't think he had anything worth saying. Apologies would sound shallow and trite, and explanations would merely be halfhearted excuses. He couldn't even dream of asking for forgiveness. He glanced up briefly, and flinched when his eyes rested on the ugly burn on Adrestin's arm. No, there were no words that could make things better.

“Your fretting is practically audible in the Force, Sivin. Yet you don't say a word.”

Siv winced and dropped his gaze back to the ground. “Because there's nothing I could say that can make any of this right.”

Adrestin drew to a halt and regarded Siv with all four of his eyes, releasing a sigh. “I do not ask you to 'make things right', Sivin. That will only come with time. What I do ask of you is that you tell me what happened.”

Siv stared down at his feet and kicked a rock in the dust. “You won't like it.”

“That is beside the point. I need to understand what happened to you, and what pushed you to a point where you would end up trying to hurt the people who care so much about you.” He reached out a clawed hand to grasp Sivin's shoulder. “And I need to know if it is something that could happen again. Dom has grown very dear to me, and I cannot and will not stand by if there is risk that his life could be put in further danger.”

Sivin shuddered, both at the firm touch and at Adrestin's words. “I can't... I don't think I have any fortitude or resolve for something like that again. There's nothing left in me to even try.” He took a step back to sit on the low stone wall behind them. “I just... feel empty. Almost like the Force has left me.” Shivering even in the warm breeze, he hunched over and wrapped his arms around himself.

Adrestin sat beside him, close but not touching. “Talk to me, Sivin. Start at the beginning.”

Siv took a deep breath, slow and shaky. “Well... I went to the satellite temple on Gleiir, hoping I could meditate all my problems away. It didn't work, obviously. I was a mess. Zarinne visited me there after a while, and I ended up going back to Coruscant with her. And just before I came _here,_ I went to the Council for, uh... help.”

Adrestin raised a single eyebrow. “Help.”

Siv shrugged, shaking his head. “The Council has the ability to hone the Force into a powerful tool for mental realignment. They can put you into a deep meditation as they watch over you, and it's supposed to purge all doubt and falsehood from your mind, leaving only the Light. It's supposed to guide you when all else fails.”

Adrestin frowned, but nodded slowly. “I... see. And what did that entail?”

“It's... hard to explain, fully.” Sivin ran a hand over his eyes, wondering idly how the strong emotions that came from the shock of what he had accidentally done to Dom were beginning to fade. “The Jedi Council used those intense meditation techniques to place a... a block, I guess, within my mind. A suppressor of sorts, for emotion. It worked – and it worked _well –_ but it was incomplete. Usually things like that require months to prepare for and perform, and the Council had just a few weeks to wrestle my mind and my emotional state under some semblance of control. I was a mess.”

Concern creased Adrestin's face, and he turned to look at Sivin fully. “And you asked them to do this to you?”

Sivin nodded, a remnant of misery making his heart clench.

“And what did you feel, immediately after?”

A long pause, before Sivin slowly shook his head. “...I didn't.” He swallowed. “I didn't feel a damn thing. No regret, no doubt, no fear. No sorrow. No joy. Nothing. I felt nothing.”

Again there was that slow nod from Adrestin. “...And now? What happened?”

“I think...” Siv hesitated, unsure of quite how to put into words what he thought was going on inside his own head. “I think... that the shock of hurting someone that I had once sworn to protect was too much for me. BrightWatch... BrightWatch was my _life._ Everyone within its ranks, I swore to lead and protect. That's... probably one of the reasons it had hurt so much when I lost so many back at the Sith shrine. And... and I think that seeing Dom, seeing one of _my own,_ hurt by _my blade,_ it was...” He sighed again, suddenly very weary.

“It was enough to dislodge the block that the Jedi Council ingrained inside of you,” Adrestin murmured, “At least for a time.”

Sivin blinked at the last few words. “...Why do you say that?”

Adrestin's gaze grew sharp. “Do not pretend that your blinding brightness is not returning. You regained your former aura in the Force for a few hours, but slowly your colour is leeching away, fading, even as we speak. You're losing your grasp on emotion again, aren't you?”

He winced again. “I'm... I'm not sure what's going on up here, honestly.” He tapped his own forehead and sighed. “But you're probably right. It's... it's powerful stuff, what the Council did. It's not going to go away so easily. Even if I wanted it to.”

Adrestin squeezed his eyes shut and let out a slow breath before opening them again. “What does that tell you, Sivin?”

Siv mimicked Adrestin's movement, feeling even more lost and helpless than he had ever been. “...It tells me that I have to sacrifice everything about myself and everything I love if I want to be considered useful to the Jedi Order.” He let out a short, almost hysterical laugh. “And even then, it's not enough, is it?”

Adrestin slowly shook his head, all eyes on Sivin. “I could not begin to tell you what would satisfy your Order, Sivin. I truly do not know. They are as strange and as foreign to me as the void beyond the stars. What I _can_ tell you is that the only thing I will ask from you tonight is that you be true to yourself, and honest with me. And I will do the same.”

“You've always been honest with me,” Sivin said quietly, “from day one.”

“I need to ask you something. I must, before anything else.”

Sivin's heart quickened, just a little. “What's that?”

“You said that this block that the Jedi Council would not be removed easily, even if you wanted it to.”

Sivin nodded.

Adrestin made a move to take Sivin's hand, but hesitated. He folded his hands in his lap, and gazed down at Sivin with worried eyes. _“Do_ you? Want it to be removed?”

Sivin jerked back, his tension returning. He had to consciously unclench his hands and his teeth, and wondered at himself and his own reaction. But slowly, hesitatingly, he gave Adrestin a single shake of his head. “I... I don't think... I don't think it's the solution to my problems that I had hoped it would be. Not if... not if it brings me to hurt the people I care about. _Stars,_ what _have_ I done? What _could_ I have done, if you hadn't been there to stop me?”

Adrestin could only shrug in response. “I do not know the limits of this block, nor its extent. Not yet. But Sivin... you haven't answered me. Not fully. _Do_ you want it removed?”

Siv fell into silence and chewed on his lower lip. Several long, agonizingly slow moments passed, and finally he sighed. “I guess... I guess I won't know how I really feel about things until it's gone, will I? So... yeah, I guess I do. Want it removed.”

“The choice is yours alone to make, Sivin.” Adrestin tilted his head to ensure that Sivin was looking at him fully. “With your help, and with the assistance of someone I know who specializes in removing powerful influences and brainwashing, I have the ability to remove it. If that is something you truly want.”

Sivin closed his eyes to keep himself from having to stare up at Adrestin for too long. The image of Dom lying on the ground and gasping for breath came suddenly to mind, and he shook his head violently in a futile attempt to clear it. “...Alright. Let's do this. Before it gets worse again. What do I have to do?”

Sivin felt a clawed finger tuck under his chin, and he opened his eyes again to see Adrestin gazing down at him. His expression was soft, even gentle. He released Sivin's chin and reached his hand out, offering it palm up. “...Do you trust me, Sivin?”

 


	26. In Which There Is Even Further Dialogue Between Jedi And Sith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sivin and Adrestin start to talk, and Adrestin has an idea for a possibility, if not a solution, to their difficulties. Meanwhile, Erion and Astele are watching over Dom with Niam...

“...What are you asking of me, Adrestin?” Sivin's stomach twisted into knots, apprehension growing even as the the intensity of the rest of his feelings seemed to fade in and out.

"Simply that. _Do you trust me?”_

Sudden tears welled up in Siv's eyes, and he managed to nod around the immense lump forming in his throat.

“Do you trust me to be honest with you, and not lie to you or attempt to manipulate you?”

Again, Sivin nodded. He reached out a trembling hand to take Adrestin's offered one, internally marveling at himself as his heart thudded hard against his chest.

Adrestin squeezed his hand and bent his head to kiss it. “I will not tell you what to do, Sivin. But I want you to think long and hard about the powers that direct your life. About what they mean to you, and if they are worth the price that they ask of you. I told you just before you left that you have a choice. You _always_ have a choice. And sometimes those choices are not between two things or two people or two beliefs or even allegiances, but are just decisions that must be made.”

Sivin stared down at Adrestin's hands, gingerly running his thumb over the scaly skin. “I don't... I don't understand what you're trying to tell me.”

Adrestin gave him a soft smile. “I will not ask you to choose between me or the Jedi Order. That is never something I would ask you to do. But I will ask you to consider how you allow them to treat you.”

Siv shook his head. “I don't have the power to –”

“But you _do._ I have tried to keep my own opinions out of this, because I know we are on opposite sides of a war and I never want you to think I would use that against you. But... Sivin, they just attempted to _brainwash_ you into doing their bidding, without giving a second thought to your own feelings about what they wanted you to do.”

“I _asked_ for it.”

“Did you? Truly? Or were you backed into a corner and thought you had no other options, because you were afraid they would abandon you if you didn't?”

Sivin winced at the harsh truth in Adrestin's words. “I still don't have any power there. I can't make them treat me differently.”

“No? Sivin, you have _leverage,_ leverage you are completely unaware of. You influence future generations of Jedi, simply by existing. The Order has already painted you as their princely posterboy. The Republic sees you as a darling celebrity and a war hero. These perceptions will not simply vanish the moment you stand up to the Jedi Council. They have weight, they have influence. Perception is _power.”_

Sivin jerked away, eyes growing wide when the emphasis of Adrestin's words was reflected in the flaring of the Dark Side all around him. “No – don't – don't do this to me, Adrestin. Don't talk of power. Don't press me. I can't – I _won't,_ go down that path.”

Alarmed, Adrestin sat back to regard Sivin with confused worry. “I shall not press you. Though I am unsure what path you are talking about."

Sivin let out a short laugh. “The only path you know, Adrestin. _The Dark Side._ You talk of strength and influence and power, and...”

Realization crept over Adrestin's face, and his alarm faded into a soft, knowing smile. _“I am Sith,_ Sivin. Such are the things I know intimately well. Such are the windows onto the world that I look out of. But such things are not limited solely to the Dark Side. They are the way of the Force, Light and Dark. Your own Jedi Council is the living embodiment of power and influence.”

Sivin slumped back down and ran a hand through his tendrils. “... Yeah. You're right.” He sighed and leaned to the side, but stopped just shy of touching Adrestin. “...You always are.”

“Not always. But I do try to take every opportunity to learn.” He slipped his arm back and gingerly curled it over Sivin's shoulders, barely brushing skin in a silent invitation for Siv to come closer. “I do not want to steer you wrong, or make you believe I have all the answers. I do not. I can only try to help you.”

Leaning into Adrestin's tentative touch, Sivin blew out a shaky breath and rested his head on Adrestin's side. “Sometimes I wonder if you're the only one in this who has my own best interests in mind.”

“And never doubt that I do. Whatever decisions you make here, Sivin, I only wish for your happiness and contentment. If ultimately that means leaving me once again and returning to your Order because you believe it to be the path to that contentment, then so be it.” He ran his free hand over Siv's head, smoothing back his tendrils before placing a delicate kiss on his forehead. “But if you think that there is another way then I will be by your side for every step of that path, if you wish me to be. You are never alone.”

Siv leaned closer to bury his face in Adrestin's chest, clinging to him as he absorbed every low-frequency vibration emanating from Adrestin that he could. It smoothed out his chaotic thoughts, seeming to pull the faded emotions up from deep within him and throw them into high relief, even as they soothed and calmed the sharper edges. “Not when I'm with you, at least.”

A twinge of sympathy made Adrestin gently squeeze Sivin just a little closer. “...Is there no one, in all of the Jedi Order, that you can consider a friend? Someone who supports you?”

“... I...” Sivin swallowed, an unexpected hard lump forming in his throat. “Truthfully, I don't know. Zarinne is... she's been my friend longer than anyone else, has stuck by my side through things that others would have left me over, and has given me a lot of encouragement through the years. But...”

“But?”

“But ultimately, I can't... I can't trust her. She loves me for the Jedi she sees in the Order. If I'm not that Jedi, or trying to _be_ that Jedi – if I'm not Commander Sivin Ikalruq, leader of BrightWatch, war hero of the Republic, scion of all things Jedi aspire to be – I don't... I don't know how far that love would go.” He heaved a sigh, weary and spent. “I failed her once, and her only thought was getting me back to Coruscant. Back to the Temple, back to the Jedi Council. Back to where they could _fix_ me.”

A sad smile spread over Adrestin's face, though Sivin couldn't see it from where he was. “I am also offering to 'fix' you, Sivin, am I not?”

Sivin pulled back enough that he could look up, and shook his head violently. “It's different. _So_ different. You just said so yourself. You are here for me whether I'm a Jedi or not, whether I go back or whether I stay here, whatever I decide to do. Or _not_ do. You're still _here,_ regardless.”

The sadness in Adrestin's smile eased, and his warmth was palpable in the Force. “That is what friends do for each other, Sivin.”

“And it's something I'm not sure Zarinne would ever do for me.”

“...I see.” Adrestin gathered Sivin up so he could rest his chin on the top of his head. “I'm sorry, Sivin. Though I do not know her and could not pretend to understand her thoughts and feelings, I hope that in this you are wrong.”

Sivin curled into his friend, letting out one more exhausted sigh. “I hope so too. But it wouldn't surprise me if I'm not. She's just as much a product of the Jedi Order as I am, if not more so.”

“How do you mean?”

He smiled, but it was bitter. “I'm pretty sure you've known it a lot longer than I have, but... The Jedi Order exists to use the people within it. It uses them up, consumes them. It grooms people to be everything that it wants them to be, only to take everything from them to fuel its own force.” Bracing himself for his own small revelations, he swallowed hard before pressing on. “The worst part is, it's symbiotic. Any of us that are caught up within it, can't live without it. We become lost, devastated. Desperate. We preach no attachments, but we've set ourselves up to be afflicted with the most destructive and inescapable attachment of them all.”

Adrestin nodded into Sivin's tendrils, holding him as close as he was physically able. “Yet it is not wholly inescapable. This I know as a certainty.”

Sivin's confusion was almost tangible for a moment, but it faded quickly. “...You speak of whatever you know that can break the block in my mind?”

“That as well, yes. The Jedi Order is not omnipotent. There are many ways to escape its grasp.” He paused. _“If_ that is something you desire to do.”

“Therein lies the rub, eh?” Siv sighed and nuzzled into his friend's chest. “I don't... I don't know if I want to wholly leave the Jedi Order. Even after all of this. I don't know if I can. I just... I just want to change things. I am a Jedi, I'll always think of myself as a Jedi, I'll always want to _be_ a Jedi, or what I thought being a Jedi stood for.”

Once again Adrestin nodded into the top of Siv's head. “Then do not leave them. You _do_ have the ability to change things, Sivin. At least in how they treat _you._ I believe that wholeheartedly. But perhaps we should focus on the first step, before trying to take in all the rest at once.”

Sivin smiled into Adrestin's scaly skin. “You and your rational approach. Who'd have thought _that_ would have worked, eh? Okay, what's step one? Getting rid of this weird block thing in my head, I imagine.”

Adrestin chuckled at the return of Sivin's snark. “Indeed, if that is still something you wish to do.”

“...Yeah, definitely. You said you knew someone who could help?”

“Yes. I will make the call, once we get back to town.” Adrestin shifted his weight and pulled both himself and Sivin off of the rock wall to stand once more. “Shall we make our way back?”

Sivin nodded and curled an arm around Adrestin as they started to make their way back down towards where the road began. “So who is this person that can help?”

“Darth Gnosia – Brizx't. They are Vratix, who lost their hive when they joined the Sith. Their adopted collective is the most remarkable collection of droids and holocrons I have ever seen, some of Jedi origin, some Sith, and even some that are neither. They specialize in obscure knowledge, and have developed a reputation as being the one to go to when it comes to mental processes and conditioning. The Dark Council has been trying to shut them down for years, but Brizx't has the backing and protection of the Tribunal. They will come if I ask.”

Sivin raised an eyebrow. “The Council and the Tribunal are at odds over them? Why?”

Adrestin let out a short laugh. “At risk of oversharing the mysterious inner workings of Sith government, the Dark Council and the Sith Tribunal are at odds over almost everything. The Council... is often the source of much of the Sith's more unsavoury practices. They use sleeper agents, among many other things. I am sure you are familiar with how they function, as the Jedi Council and the Republic each have had plenty of their own. But as with most sleepers, if they become aware of their status they often wish to be rid of the brainwashing they've been put under. Through the Force and their natural affinity for telepathy, Brizx't has the ability to negate mind control and neutralize a sleeper's activation codes.”

“No wonder the Dark Council wants them gone.”

“Mm.” Adrestin curled his arm around Sivin's shoulders as they found the road and followed it back towards the settlement. “But while Brizx't has the knowledge and the ability to do these things, they often don't have the... well, the _power._ They're not strong enough in the Force to do it alone, and holocrons can only help so much. So they need someone with enough strength and knowledge to push them along.”

Sivin nodded, a small smile on his face. “Someone like you.”

Adrestin matched the smile with a faint one of his own. “Someone like me.”

“And what does this Brizx't get out of this? Why would they come, other than owing the Tribunal for protection?”

Adrestin chuckled and shrugged. “Oh, they will be well paid, in their own way. The opportunity to practice their craft is often all the motivation they need, though I will also offer them whatever I can. The workings of the mind fascinate them. If you are willing to accept their help, I am sure there is added motivation for working on a Jedi mind. They are just masochistic enough to appreciate that strange brightness.”

“Great, I'm so excited.” Siv's sarcasm bled through even to his eye roll, but he was smiling. “What does that say about you, oh Sith Lord who befriends Jedi?”

There was a twinkle in Adrestin's sunburst eyes as he responded. “...That I am just masochistic enough to appreciate that strange brightness.”

 

* * * * * *

 

<I don't like this. They have been gone for hours.>

Astele watched her Master float back and forth in the small space of the infirmary room, in their facsimile of irritated and nervous pacing. Niam was lounging in one of the chairs pushed back into the corner of the room, his fingers idly playing with a strand of his unruly hair. He rolled his eyes and kicked at the air as Erion passed him by once again. “Stop that you old goat, you're making me dizzy just watching you. They'll be _fine._ The boss knows what he's doing. If anyone can keep a close eye on that tank it's _him,_ and you know it.”

<Keep your voice _down, >_ Erion whispered fiercely, their gaze flicking to the slumbering form on the infirmary bed. <If you wake him, you will hurt.>

“Okay, okay, fine.” Niam slumped further back into his chair, voice dropping to a low mumble. “Keeping quiet. Happy?”

<Marginally satisfactory.> Erion stopped their pacing long enough to linger by Dom's side, their eyes going over every inch of his sleeping form. All of the life-support equipment was in its proper place, and each of the dials on the monitor displays marked everything within normal parameters. Eri reached out with the Force to brush Dom's mind, and quietly retreated when they sensed nothing but idle dream imagery and the vague oblivion of deep sleep. They turned back to Niam, avoiding Astele's concerned stare.

Niam cocked his head to one side. “Everything alright?”

<For now.>

Astele's ears remained flat back against her head. “Is he gonna be okay? The infirmary administrator said –”

<I know what was said, Apprentice. We should not have allowed him to speak to Ikalruq. It put too much strain on his system. He is already too fragile.>

Astele's lower lip quivered, and she reached down to brush her fingers over the velvet on Dom's horns. “He _has_ to be okay. He only just got a birthday. There's no _way_ he's not going to be around to actually celebrate it.” She sniffled. “I won't allow it.”

Erion moved to stand beside their apprentice, and placed a hand on her shoulder. <Only time will tell. Sleep is what is best for him now. He needs rest. He is fragile, but he is also strong. Stronger than he even knows.>

Astele wiped furiously at her eyes and slid down from the infirmary bed, heading for the door.

Niam raised an eyebrow as she went. “Where you going, doodlebug?”

Her whisper was fierce as she bared her teeth against the tears. _“Somebody_ has to tell Lord Belus that Dom might be _dying._ I don't _care_ if he needs to talk to Sivin. He needs to be _here.”_ She whirled on the balls of her feet and shoved open the door, rushing out of it before either Niam or Erion could stop her.

Niam flicked his eyes over to Erion. “She's right, you know. Boss needs to be here. If anyone might be able to help, it's him.”

<I know. And I know he _will._ He is well-versed in rescuing Jedi.> They paused, what might have been affection filtering into their voice as they gazed down at Dom as he slept. <...And former Jedi.>

“Heh.” Niam came up to the side of the bed, watching Erion as they touched fingertips to Dom's horns. “This lil sweetheart seems pretty well-loved around here. Not bad for a Light-sider. Not bad.”

Erion gave a shrug with one shoulder. <He has earned it. Your people have seen how he helps them without any thought for himself. And though that should by all rights and experience make him weaker, instead he grows strong. That is to be respected. It is not surprising they have grown to love him as well.>

Niam snorted, but his ever-present smile grew into a grin. “That's great and all, but it wasn't my people I was talking about.”

<Adrestin and Astele have long been fond of him, there is little to marvel at there.>

Niam's grin widened even further. “Nice try, old goat.”

Erion rolled their eyes and leaned up to smack Niam lightly on the back of his head. <Do not overstep your bounds with insinuations.>

“I ain't saying anything. Not at all.” But the grin had reached his eyes, and they sparkled with amusement. “Finally, someone gets through that prickly armor and sour attitude. Haven't seen that since our Apprentice days, when you actually dropped your guard to let the boss in. Amazing that it could happen again. I'm floored.”

<You have an uncanny ability to talk entirely too much when you claim you are not saying anything at all.>

“Am I wrong, though?”

<...Shut up.>

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erion is eternally tired of Niam's shit, and yet they still put up with him. :3  
> A lot of Adrestin and Sivin's dialogue seems really rough to me still, but I'm tired of wrestling with it. I can only take so much of this kind of in-story ideology discourse, even though it takes up like... half the story, lol. Looking forward to introducing YET ANOTHER character though. Brizx't is fun to write.


	27. In Which A Life Is On The Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astele finds Adrestin and drags him back to the infirmary room. Dom isn't doing well - while Adrestin and Sivin were out for a walk, his body began to reject his new cybernetics.

Just as Adrestin and Sivin entered the infirmary, Astele ran up the ramp to grasp one of Adrestin's hands in both of hers. She tugged insistently, her angry eyes blazing with her own Dark Side power. “Come _on,_ Lord Belus. Hurry. Dom is sleeping, but he's...” She choked on her own words, and had to stop for a moment to scrub at her eyes. “He's not doing well. His body is rejecting the cybernetics. The life-support equipment is doing its job, but – but –”

Adrestin quickened his pace, following her to the small infirmary room. His mood had darkened the moment Astele had started speaking, and now the Dark Side was whipping and roiling about him in a palpable frenzy. He didn't say a word nor did he even look at Sivin, but Adrestin's anger coalesced around the Jedi, thrashing harsh and heavy in the air.

As they entered the infirmary room, Sivin flinched with renewed guilt. Dom was indeed asleep, but he had broken out into a cold sweat and his breathing was labored to the point of shallow wheezing. Both Niam and Erion looked up when they entered, both pairs of eyes fastening on Adrestin and widening upon feeling his anger in the Force. They hastily cleared a path, and Adrestin crouched close by Dom's side. “You should have come for me sooner.”

No one in the room had any response, but Adrestin would have ignored any words anyway. The blue-white healing powers of the Force manifested in Adrestin's hands, and he pressed them gently to Dom's chest. “Leave us.”

All three Sith needed no other prompting, and obeyed immediately. But Sivin lingered at the threshold of the door, letting it slide closed before taking a slow, deep breath. “Adrestin... I...”

“If you are about to say how sorry you are, you have already said it. Repeatedly. I know, Sivin. I know. _Leave us.”_

Sivin swallowed hard and blinked back a few stinging tears, but still he lingered. “If he... what will happen, if he...”

“If he _dies?”_ Adrestin did not stop focusing on the healing power of the Force, but he did turn his head to stare back at Sivin. All four of his eyes narrowed, the corruption of the Dark Side making them flare. “Perhaps instead of worrying about what will happen to yourself, you should put your concern towards Dom.”

Sivin winced at the harsh words, but nodded slowly in admission of the direction his thoughts had gone. He slowly approached, winding his way to the other side of the bed. “I shouldn't have asked. I'm – I am sorry, Adrestin. I know I've said it already. And I know it doesn't help.”

Adrestin sighed, the fury of the Dark Side around him almost audible with its rumbling strength. “What do you expect, Sivin? I cannot forget so quickly that there is a reason this happened.”

Sivin tried his hardest to blink away the tears that threatened to fall. “I can't... I can't fix this. I want to, please believe me –”

“I do believe you.” Despite the rough tone of his voice, his words themselves were spoken in earnest. “I love you, Sivin, never doubt that. But I also love Dom. My anger over what has happened has been controlled, but not buried. Do not think there will not be consequences if he dies.”

Again, Sivin winced at the implicit threat. He merely nodded as he twisted one of his head tendrils around one of his hands, finally giving up at trying to stop the tears.

But Adrestin's weariness hung just as heavily around him as his anger. “That does not mean I will rescind how I feel about you, either. My love remains, no matter my fury.”

Surprised, Siv's watery eyes grew wide as his heart seemed to skip a beat. “I'm not... used to that.”

Adrestin's harsh gaze softened somewhat, but he averted his eyes to look back down at Dom as he adjusted his gentle touch. “You are used to anger ending a friendship, I take it.”

Sivin nodded again, but didn't trust himself to words. Instead he watched Adrestin as he healed Dom, focusing on Adrestin's clawed hands.

Adrestin let the long moment of silence stretch between them, before finally releasing a soft sigh. “I cannot tell you what the near future holds, not for Dom, and not for... not for us, either. I simply do not know. But I do know this – I do not give up on those I care about so easily. That same attachment that causes you such desperate guilt is the very same that gives life to my love. I will defend my love for those I care about with the same ferocity and ardor that drives my every passion. Including my anger. _You are loved,_ Sivin, and not even this tragedy will shake that.”

Sivin's heart lodged itself in his throat and threatened to choke him just as much as his tears. Not even _this_ would shake him? Timidly, he stretched out with the Force to brush against Adrestin's presence. And there he felt everything that Adrestin had just told him – his anger was heated and palpable, but no less could be said for his love. He cared, he still _cared,_ about Sivin. He could feel how desperately worried Adrestin was for him, even as he wallowed in fear over what might happen to Dom.

Sivin covered his face with one hand, tears coming in streams down his face that he couldn't even pretend to prevent. Just as he couldn't stop the faint glimmer of _hope_ from welling up in his chest. “What... what can I do?”

“If you wish to stay, then help me maintain Dom's stasis. Stay here with me as long as you can, before sleeping. I would rather not talk. I will not expect you to stay up all night.”

“Okay.” Sivin wheeled the other chair up to Dom's bedside and produced his own healing glow of Force power, mingling his Light with Adrestin's Dark as he pressed his hands beside Adrestin's. He fell into silence, and the only sounds that pervaded the room were the click and hiss of the life support equipment and the rattling wheeze of Dom's laboured breathing. The low-frequency vibrations and the rumble of Dark Side power coming from Adrestin were felt more than heard, and even though they were not directed at Sivin he still felt the calming effect of Adrestin's strange hum.

Over an hour passed with no more words between them. Adrestin's soothing click-rattle had crept in all around Sivin – slowly, incrementally, and had grown to envelop him along with Dom. The tiny glimmer of hope Siv had felt planted itself like a tiny seed inside of him, and even though nothing was said every moment that passed by felt like water and sunlight. Siv stole tiny glances up at Adrestin every few moments, and although Adrestin kept all of his eyes focused on Dom, Siv could feel his presence in the Force respond with waves of Dark Side warmth – tentative and distracted, yet still there.

Sivin dropped his gaze down to watch their hands, studying the blue-white glow of their power in the Force intermingling over Dom's chest. “...It's strange.”

“What is?”

He inclined his head to their two pairs of hands crossed over the slow, irregular rise and fall of damaged lungs. “Healing in the Force. One is supposedly made from the Light Side, and the other from the Dark. But they look the same.”

Adrestin's expression slowly softened. And though his hands never left Dom's chest, just as slowly he brought one thumb up to brush against the side of Sivin's fingers. “Indeed.”

 

* * * * * * *

 

Halfway through the night, a soft tap on the infirmary room's door made Adrestin partially turn. He looked up from Dom's prone form, an unexpected smile quirking up one corner of his mouth as his gaze flicked over Siv's slumbering face. Sometime within the past hour Sivin had fallen asleep and slumped forward in his chair to rest on the edge of the bed, his head pillowed on his arms. Adrestin pushed the door open with the Force, not bothering to move his hands from where they still rested on Dom's chest, aglow with his healing power.

Erion crept in, slowly floating to Adrestin's side. They didn't say anything for a few long moments, instead just simply looked down at Dom as they reached out a hand to lightly stroke his knee. Finally they spoke, their voice carefully modulated to a whisper. <How is he?>

Adrestin inclined his head towards the life-support monitor, his own voice equally quiet. “He's stable, finally. His body has stopped trying to reject the cybernetics, but the process of accepting them is still slow.”

Erion nodded, their hand retreating from Dom's form. <Have you gotten any rest?>

“I will rest when he wakes.”

<Lord Belus...>

“No.”

_< Adrestin –>_

“ _No._ I will not leave. I will not rest, not until then. You will have to pry him from my cold, dead hands.”

Surrendering the point, Erion sighed and leaned on Adrestin's shoulder. <If I had any talent for healing, I would take your place.>

Adrestin favoured Eri with a soft smile. “I know you would. Thank you.”

<Do you need anything?>

Adrestin _hmm_ ed thoughtfully to himself before shrugging his free shoulder. “Perhaps a pitcher of water. I do not believe I require anything else.” His eyes flicked back over to Sivin. “...And would you do something for me, Eri?”

<Anything.>

“Could you contact Darth Gnosia?”

Erion narrowed their eyes and followed Adrestin's gaze over to Sivin's sleeping form. <You still wish to help him. Even after all that has happened.>

Adrestin let out a soft sigh. “He is my friend, Eri. Regardless of what has happened. I still care very much for him and if there is some way I can help him, I will. And you know just as well as I do that Brizx't is his best shot at correcting whatever the Jedi Council did to his mind.”

Erion's sharp gaze softened somewhat, though their eyes remained narrowed. <He was brainwashed after all, then.>

“Aren't all Jedi? But yes, they did something to him when he returned to the Order.”

Erion snorted as they nodded. <Point. Though it does not excuse what happened, nor will I be so ready to forgive. But I will contact Darth Gnosia. And return with water.>

“Thank you, Eri.” Adrestin leaned to the side to place a kiss on Erion's temple before turning back to fully face Dom and focus closer on maintaining his stasis.

Erion shook their head and sighed as they left the room, muttering something about the influx of softhearted Darths in the Sith Empire under their breath.

 

* * * * * * *

 

It was very early in the morning when Dom blinked himself awake, though his sense of time was already off for being underground. He looked up as he tried to get his eyes to focus in the dim light of the infirmary room, and found himself staring up at Adrestin. His lower eyes were closed but his upper pair gazed down affectionately at Dom, and he favoured him with a gentle smile. “Good morning. How do you feel?”

Dom flushed several shades of purple behind his respirator before managing to rasp a response. “Morning.” He took a slow deep breath, surprised that it no longer felt like a herd of banthas was trampling his chest when he did so. “I feel... a lot better. Not one hundred percent, but... way better than before.”

“Good.” Adrestin leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to Dom's forehead. “You were touch and go for a while last night. You slipped into unconsciousness when your body tried to reject the cybernetics, and the administrator thought we might lose you.”

Dom's eyes widened, and he tilted his head in question. “But I feel so much better.” Only then did he notice the weariness in Adrestin's eyes and his exhaustion in the Force. “...You've been healing me. Did you... stay up all night?”

“Mm. Sivin helped as well, for a time.” Adrestin inclined his head to indicate the sleeping form slumped over the edge of the other side of the bed. He stroked his thumb over the velvet on Dom's horns, a haunted look in his upper eyes. “I was afraid of losing you. So afraid.”

Dom reached up with shaky hands and laced his fingers around Adrestin's neck, wishing he had more strength in his wobbly muscles to pull himself upright for a proper hug. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

Adrestin took the opportunity to pull Dom closer, careful not to tug on the life-support equipment he was still connected to. He held him close, nuzzling into the side of Dom's neck. “I do not believe I have. I said that I would take care of you and _protect_ you, and I am sorry that I failed in that promise. I do not intend to fail at it again.”

Dom shivered at the close contact and clung tightly to Adrestin's shoulders. “It was an accident, Adrestin. You're too hard on yourself.” If his respirator had allowed himself to smile without such great effort, he would have grinned. “But you really, _really_ should get some rest.”

“Mm. Soon.” He wrapped Dom up not only in his arms but also in a protective blanket of the Force, supplemented with his low-frequency vibrations. Cupping the back of Dom's head with one hand, he rubbed gentle circles over his back with the other.

Dom snuggled into the embrace, relaxing into Adrestin's presence in the Force and letting the strangely comforting waves of protective Dark Side power wash over him. But Adrestin's weariness was so palpable Dom was amazed that he could still be standing, much less conscious. If another raid happened now, there would be no way Adrestin could help... All because Adrestin wanted to save Dom, and wouldn't trust his healing to anyone else.

Dom's worry came through loud and clear through the Force, and while Adrestin couldn't literally read his thoughts he could guess the limited range of targets for his fretting. He kissed the side of Dom's head and nuzzled one of his horns. “I will be fine, Dom. Don't worry about me.”

Dom traced the edges of one of Adrestin's chest scales with a finger, thoughtful. “I wouldn't have to worry if you'd listen to Lord Erion, because I can assume that they've badgered you about it already.”

Adrestin let out a quiet laugh, amused at how well Dom could predict Eri. “Alright, alright. When Eri comes back in to check on us I will go get some rest.”

“Deal.” Dom rested his cheek against Adrestin's chest and sighed, silently wishing the respirator covering the lower half of his face would just stop existing for a few minutes.

Movement from the other side of the bed made both Dom and Adrestin shift to look over at Sivin, who stirred and stretched before opening bleary eyes. He managed to focus his bloodshot gaze on Dom, and a hesitant smile spread over his face. “Heya.”

Suddenly very self-conscious of his proximity to Adrestin, Dom's horns flushed in patches of deep purple before he could duck his head down to partially hide behind Adrestin's arm. “H- hey.”

Sivin dropped his smile, distressed. “I – I can go.”

But Adrestin merely chuckled and eased Dom back down on the bed, careful to replace every piece of life-support equipment into its proper space. Reaching out with the Force to ease Sivin's mind, he reached a hand down to stroke Dom's forehead. “Apologies, Dom. My affectionate nature can cause embarrassment on occasion, and I am rarely aware of it.”

Dom's eyes crinkled up at the corners, and for once he was grateful that the respirator prevented him from grinning awkwardly at his companions. “I – I'll get used to it. Siv... Are you okay? Your eyes are all red.”

Siv glanced from Dom to Adrestin and back again, and he shrugged as he scratched at the back of his head. “I don't... think I slept well. I, uh. I dream too much.”

A soft tap at the door, and all three looked up as Erion slipped inside the room. They raised one eyebrow, but made a beeline for Dom's side. <You are awake. How do you feel?>

“Not too bad.” Dom reached out a hand for Eri. “I can breathe and it doesn't hurt anymore, it just... pinches, I guess. Sometimes I feel like I can't take a deep enough breath but it goes away after a minute.”

Erion leaned forward to take Dom's hand in their good one, and Adrestin shifted to accommodate them as they inspected all the dials and monitors above Dom. <Does talking hurt?>

Dom shook his head. “No, but it does make me breathless after a bit. My throat feels scratchy.”

<That is because of the cybernetics.>

Adrestin leaned to the other side of Erion and patted Dom on his knee. “But your body is finally accepting those cybernetics. I'd estimate that it will take a few days for your body to fully adjust, but...” And here his lower pair of eyes flicked over to Sivin for half a second before focusing back on Dom, “... It also means that they are rather permanent. Are you okay with that?”

Dom frowned, hesitating to answer. “...Is the... Is the respirator unit included in that?”

“Hmm. I would estimate both yes and no. Unfortunately you will probably need it the rest of your life, but not constantly. Just for when breathing becomes difficult. Once you have adjusted to everything and you have healed as much as your body is able, you will probably need it only intermittently.” Adrestin smiled down at him. “I have it on good authority that Astele will want to design you a complete unit for all of your lung support, and I am sure that will include a removable piece for your respirator.”

Erion nodded and squeezed Dom's hand lightly before releasing it. <She has already been up a few hours. Working on the design already.>

Dom wished again that he could smile without such great effort. “Heh. That's my Astele. Why am I not surprised?” But he turned to Adrestin with a frown of mock-seriousness, and leveled a finger up at him. “Now, you told me that when Lord Erion came in that you would go get some sleep.”

Adrestin raised his hands in surrender. “Yes sir.” He leaned down to kiss Dom on his forehead once more before patting Erion's shoulder. “Will you watch over him for me?”

<Of course. Go sleep.>

“Thank you, Eri.” Adrestin raised two fingers to his scaly forehead in a lighthearted salute before turning to head out the door. But at the threshold he paused and turned. All four eyes going to Sivin's strangely silent face, he inclined his head in the direction of the hallway tunnels outside. “...Your own sleep has not been entirely restful, Sivin. Do you... want to join me?”

The seemingly ever-present creases of worry on Siv's forehead smoothed out for the first time since he had awoken, and he shakily got to his feet. “I'd... like that, yeah.”

Adrestin extended a hand to him as Siv crossed the room, and gave him a tentative smile as he took it. As they turned to the door he murmured quietly under his breath so only Siv could hear. “...Together then?”

And with the small reference to their recurring exchange, Sivin's tense presence in the Force relaxed ever so slightly into relief.

Adrestin curled his arm around Siv's shoulders as they ducked out of the room and made their way down the hall in silence. The few Sith settlers they passed still gave them a wide berth, but because Siv was with Adrestin they didn't seem as quick to raise their Dark Side shields as they had before. Just after they turned a corner Niam approached them from the opposite direction, waving at them as he came up. “Heya boss! Man, you look like the landing strip on the last leg of the Kessel Run.”

Adrestin raised one set of eyebrows. “Thank you for your colourful descriptive, Niam. We were just headed for sleep.”

“Right, right – but before you do, I figured you'd want to know. The old goat contacted Darth Gnosia last night, and they just sent me an update. Said they'd be here early this evening.”

“Ah, thank you.” Adrestin spared a glance down at Sivin before nodding at Niam. “Would you wake us when they arrive?”

“Sure thing. Hey, you need anything?”

Adrestin shook his head. “No, but thank you again. You are ever good to me.”

Niam's eternal grin grew wider. “Just returning the favor, boss.” His eyes flicked up to Sivin, and the smile faltered a little before turning lopsided in awkwardness. “Heya tank. You cognizant now? Good. Wow though, you look just as bad as the boss. Man, everyone around here needs to get some shut-eye.”

Sivin managed a wan smile, and Adrestin gave a parting nod to Niam before tugging Siv along to the next door on the left. He waved it open and ducked inside, beckoning for Siv to follow. “It is a little cramped, but admittedly Niam's people don't often reach our proportions.”

Siv glanced around the small room, taking in the low desk, small chair, and a bed obviously intended for people that weren't over two meters tall. He was already very aware of the low ceiling, but he noted with some relief that there was another door that led to a refresher. At least he wouldn't have leave the room just to use the toilet, and wouldn't have to face any of these people quite so soon if he could help it. “It's lovely.”

Adrestin nodded and curled up sideways on the bed, using one of the pillows to prop himself up against the back wall. His legs and tail dangled over the edge and dragged on the floor, but he looked comfortable enough. He extended his hand to Siv, indicating the space he deliberately left beside him. His low-frequency click-rattle expanded to fill the air and reverberate through the floor, and this time it was tuned only for Sivin. Once again that strange feeling of warmth filling in the edges of the Force washed over him, soothing his nerves and resonating with the forcibly blunted emotions Siv had been wrestling with. Somehow it brought them percolating to the surface, gently letting him _feel_ again without being completely assaulted with only guilt and grief.

He crawled into bed next to Adrestin, curling up close to his side. Adrestin drew him close and wrapped both arms snugly around him, pulling him halfway into his lap as he closed all four eyes and buried his face in Sivin's head tendrils. Almost immediately tears sprung up in Sivin's eyes, and he reached his arms up to cling tightly to Adrestin's neck. “I'm so sorry, Adrestin...”

The only response Sivin got was a deepening of the vibration all around him and a feeling as though he was being wrapped in a blanket made entirely of the Force. It tucked in around him like warm fleece, black and brimming with the power of the Dark Side. But... for some strange and inexplicable reason, Sivin felt safe within that power. He relaxed into it and into Adrestin's embrace, sighing quietly as he let his watery eyes release their tears.

He didn't deserve this. Any of this. Adrestin was already exhausted, and here he was expending more of his deficit of energy just so he could help Sivin feel just a little better. He curled his hands tighter around his friend's neck. “Adrestin... could you... ever forgive me, for what I did?”

Adrestin ran one hand through Sivin's tendrils and leaned down to kiss the side of his head. “I already have.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fine, everything is fine, everything is beautiful and nothing hurts


	28. In Which Sivin Has His Head Examined, And Dom Receives A Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brizx't arrives to help treat Sivin, and hopefully remove the mental block that has been placed inside his mind. Sivin didn't really know that to expect, but he certainly wasn't expecting this...  
> Meanwhile, thanks to Adrestin's healing efforts Dom has recovered enough to try and move around a little. And someone has a gift for him.

A soft tap on the door pulled Sivin into groggy awareness, and he looked up at Adrestin through bleary eyes as he yawned. “Good mor – oh.” He clapped his mouth shut when he realized that all four of Adrestin’s eyes were closed, and his head had drooped down to leave his chin resting on his chest. A soft snore accompanied his low-frequency vibrations, and Sivin couldn’t help but smile at his sleeping friend. He waved open the door with the Force to prevent the tapping from waking Adrestin, and he kept his voice at a whisper. “Yes?”

Erion popped their head inside, eyes narrowing when their gaze found Sivin. <Ikalruq.>

Siv shifted in his spot curled up against Adrestin and flashed Erion a nervous smile. “Good morning.”

<It’s evening.>

“...Right. Evening.”

Erion snorted with a contempt they didn’t bother hiding as they floated into the room. They slipped to the other side of Adrestin and rested their good hand on his shoulder before softly calling his name. <Lord Belus. Wake up.>

Adrestin cracked open his lower pair of eyes, which widened with a smile when he saw Erion’s face. “Good morning.”

Erion’s eyes crinkled up at their corners, and they flicked Adrestin lightly on the nose. <It’s evening, just past sunset. Lord Gnosia has just arrived.> Their eyes narrowed as their tone hardened. <They are awaiting you and your _Jedi_ aboard their ship. >

Adrestin’s upper pair of eyes opened as well and he nodded. “Thank you, Eri. We’ll be right there.”

Eri gave a single nod of confirmation to Adrestin and flicked their eyes briefly over to Siv before clearing their throat. <Niam and Astele are presently monitoring Domthus. I want to accompany you.>

Adrestin raised a set of eyebrows and glanced down at Sivin. “It is not my mind that is being treated, Eri. Best to ask Siv.”

Erion’s respirator clicked and hissed with their irritation, but they turned to Sivin with deliberation and slowly crossed their arms over their chest, head cocked. <Well?>

Suddenly feeling Erion’s cold, harsh presence weighing down on him in the Force, Sivin flinched as a shiver ran up his spine. _Icy, like sharp mountain wind during a blizzard. And their pressure is like being buried in an avalanche._ He tried futilely to shake off the feeling and barely managed a nod. “I don’t see why n– ”

“Stop it, Eri.”

Both Sivin and Erion turned back to Adrestin, who sighed and pinched the scales between his lower pair of eyes. “It is far too soon after waking to deal with this. Eri, I know you’re angry and I know that you’ve been wanting to say that your suspicions were well-founded. I know that talk is coming. And we will have it. And you and Sivin need to talk, or otherwise hash this out. I know that too. But now is not that time.”

<I am aware of that.>

“Then please, Eri. Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be for Sivin. Breaking a mental block is one of the most challenging things one can do with the Force and it won’t be enjoyable for anyone involved, except maybe for Brizx’t. Sivin is doing this for _Dom,_ and he is doing this for _me,_ as well as for himself. That has to count for something.”

Erion’s narrowed eyes flicked from Adrestin to Sivin and back again, and they bit out a quiet curse before turning and making for the door. <Fine.>

Sivin jumped up from his spot beside Adrestin. “Wait, Lord Erion.”

Eri stopped but didn’t turn. <What.>

“I’d like you to be there. And once all this is over, I know we need to talk. Or confront... this. Me. I know I’ve been a problem from day one and I want to fix that if I can.”

Eri rested a hand on the frame of the door and looked over their shoulder at Siv. <You are not Domthus. Do not pretend that you are.>

Confused, Siv scratched the back of his head. “I… I know. I just. I know you have a lot to say to me and you _will_ get that chance. I won’t try to avoid it.”

Erion scoffed, but nodded. <The wisest statement you have made yet, Ikalruq. Try not to be an utter fool and maybe you’ll survive the cure for your mind. Now are we _going? > _

Adrestin got up and entwined his fingers with Sivin’s before nodding at Erion. “Lead the way.”

 

* * * * * * * *

 

Erion took them outside and down the dusty streets, passed by the last house and the last paved road, and skirted around the far platform where Adrestin had kept his own ship. Just beyond the landing strip there lay a long and narrow ship, its gleaming hull reflecting strange angular shadows even in the dimly blinking lights that signaled the edges of the landing area. No one was outside to meet them, though the boarding ramp had already been lowered.

Erion floated up the ramp and rapped on the lowering supports, calling out as they did so. <Lord Gnosia. May we come aboard?>

“Yes, _yes,_ we are _quite_ eager to receive you.” Though none of the three could see the owner of the voice, the earnest chittering that followed seemed to flow down the ramp as if it were carried on many legs. “Please, _please,_ come in.”

Siv’s grip on Adrestin’s hand tightened as they climbed the ramp and entered the ship, and it grew even tighter as his eyes adjusted to the dim yellow-green lighting. Droids of all makes and models scattered out of their way as they boarded, many of them kinds that Siv had never seen before and some that were very clearly custom-designed. The most prevalent ones were barely larger than Adrestin’s palm, and moved about on six segmented legs that supported geometric cases decorated in angular filigree. They gave off a strange and inexplicable aura in the Force, and brushing by them made Siv shudder. As they passed many of the little droids seemed to follow them, but before Siv could confirm his suspicions their host rounded the corner.

They were certainly Vratix, but they looked very different than any that Sivin had ever seen. Their carapace had been charred black and brown from head to foot, and the thin angular lines of their traditional Sith tattoos had been made with luminescent red ink. Their large compound eyes glowed with the same red, and Siv had a hard time meeting that intense gaze. Even their presence in the Force was unnerving – it seemed raw and jittery, flickering like a glitch in a faulty hologram.

“Welcome, _welcome,”_ they hissed, their dual sets of mandibles clacking with delight as they bowed their head in turn to each of the three. “And _especially_ to our _esteemed_ Jedi Master. _Welcome._ We are Darth Gnosia. _Do_ call us Brizx’t, for we will be rather _intimately_ acquainted within the _depths_ of your _mind,_ very soon. _Very_ soon.”

Both Erion and Adrestin returned the bow, and Siv followed suit with a nervous smile. He tried to focus on the words Brizx’t was saying, but an eerie buzzing and clicking sound seemed to manifest both audibly and through the Force all around them, almost as though a whole swarm of Rhystii cicadas had taken up residence in the walls of the ship. He shook his head to try to clear it, but only ended up in making himself dizzy.

Both Adrestin and Erion eyed Siv curiously, and Brizx’t regarded him with half-lidded compound eyes. One set of their mandibles spread wide in a smug insectile grin. “Feeling discomfort _already_ are we, _Master_ Jedi?”

Siv bravely managed another smile. “I guess I’m just not used to ships like this, eh?”

Brizx’t’s second set of mandibles opened even wider than the first. “Few are, _Master_ Jedi. Few _are.”_ They gestured a hooked claw to the small droids skittering around on the floor just behind Siv. “Do you _know_ what we _are?”_

“I… can’t say that I do.” Siv shifted uneasily from foot to foot as he half turned to glance back at the strange little droids. The weird buzzing never left his hearing, but at least it had diminished to the point where he could hear what Brizx’t was saying.

One of the droids scuttled past him and ran up Brizx’t’s leg, scaling their body to perch on one shoulder. Brizx’t tilted their head towards it. “We are a collective, joined by spirit and mind and the Force.” They extended their hooked hand, and the droid ran down to perch on their palm. Slowly it levitated a few centimeters into the air, and just as slowly the geometric case opened like an unearthly flower. Reddish light spilled out from the cracks as it unfolded, revealing the glassy metallic surface of a Sith holocron.

Siv took an instinctive step back and further against Adrestin. Brizx’t’s chittering laughter echoed in the confines of the ship’s hall, blending with the click and buzz that seemed to permeate every crevice and corner. “The remnants of _spirits_ within these holocrons can _use_ these metal bodies to _move._ Such is the _power_ of _mechu-deru.”_

Siv couldn’t manage a fake smile in response. He only nodded, half-hiding behind Adrestin’s bulk and secretly relieved that he could still faintly feel his friend’s low-frequency vibrations through his grip on his hand. “That’s… uh. That’s great.”

The holocron folded back up within its droid casing and scuttled back to the floor. Brizx’t fastened their glowing red gaze on Sivin and tilted their head, thoroughly amused. “You do not _like_ it here, _do_ you, _Master_ Jedi?”

Siv sighed and shook his head. “I doubt there’s any use in pretending otherwise.”

Adrestin released Siv’s hand to curl it around his shoulders instead. “It is only natural, Brizx’t. Even Sith Lords find your ship a little unnerving, even when you are in your best of moods. Which I see we have been fortunate enough to find you in.”

Brizx’t brushed off the comment with a wave of a claw. “So it _is,_ so it is. He will be _much_ more uncomfortable than _that_ in a few moments, _regardless.”_

The arm around Siv’s shoulders pulled him just a little closer, and Siv looked up to see Adrestin eyeing him carefully, waiting for his reaction. Siv tried to swallow his alarm, and made a valiant attempt to make his words as neutral as possible. “What, uh, what do you mean?”

Brizx’t tilted their head to the opposite angle, and their mandibles clacked together. _“Removing_ the block in your mind is _not_ going to be _pleasant,_ Master Jedi. In _fact_ it is going to be _rather_ painful. Though it can be _somewhat_ eased by Lord _Belus._ His _tonal oscillation_ connects via the _Force_ to neural pathways in the _brain_ and allows a partial _bypass_ of the block. As I am _sure_ you are _already_ aware.”

“Huh? The what now?”

Brizx’t twitched and flicked their gaze up to Adrestin. “He is not _firing_ on all _thrusters,_ is he?”

Adrestin shrugged and ran a hand over one of Siv’s head tendrils. “Brizx’t is referring to the vibration I make to sooth your nerves. It has many more properties than simply as an assurance.”

“...Oh.” Siv focused in on that vibration, and even though it seemed fainter than usual because of all the strangeness around him, he could still feel it.

Adrestin gently squeezed his shoulder. “It is because of that vibration that you have been as receptive to your emotions as you have been.”

Brizx’t nodded in agreement. “If you had not been _exposed_ to Lord Belus’s _tonal oscillation,_ you would be currently _vacant_ of emotion. The Jedi Council’s block is _incomplete,_ but it is still _powerful.”_

Erion floated forward and spoke up for the first time since they had entered the ship. _< How_ powerful?>

Brizx’t twitched again. “Powerful _enough_ that we are going _through_ this trouble.”

<Powerful enough to alter personality and forcibly remove emotional attachment? Yet still susceptible to Lord Belus’s ‘tonal oscillation’? It does not add up. He’s hiding something.>

The flat stare Brizx’t gave Erion would have crumbled weaker beings. “You have the _fool’s_ common and _persistent_ weakness of _underestimating_ your _companion’s_ less _obvious_ forms of _power._ Lord Belus wields _much_ power in smaller things. Patience. Healing. Intuition. _Knowledge_ and how to _use_ it. And _this.”_ A single mandible clicked back in a Vratix sneer. “And whether _your_ mind is capable of _discerning_ the effectiveness of a _partial_ Jedi _mind_ block is irrelevant. The block is _there._ It is _functioning._ And without Lord _Belus,_ your _Master Jedi_ would be a _shell,_ nothing more than a _conduit_ for the _will_ of the Jedi Council. He hides _nothing.”_

Erion hissed a venomous <He is not _my_ Jedi, > under their breath, but Brizx’t wasn’t even looking at Erion anymore. Clearly done with the conversation, they had turned and ambled down the corridor. “Follow us, _this_ way.”

Adrestin gave Erion an apologetic half smile but they brushed it off with a shake of their head as the trio trailed after Brizx’t, followed by a small host of the tiny skittering droids. Adrestin’s arm never left Siv’s shoulders, and for that he was immensely thankful. The strange buzzing and clicking that seemed to percolate through the walls never left, and as they ventured deeper into the ship it seemed to grow if not louder, then more insistent. Brizx’t turned a corner and ushered them into a small enclosed room at the very end of the corridor. They must have been close to the center of the ship, and Sivin’s fight-or-flight adrenaline rush had come to a peak. He felt like a trapped animal, and the room they had just entered only intensified the feeling.

The room itself was dimly lit with that same hazy yellow-green light, the source of which was impossible to decipher. It was bare of decoration save for many small recesses in every surrounding wall, many of which were occupied by one of the tiny skittering droids that contained a holocron within their etched geometry. And at the very center of the room was a heavy metal rotating chair, bolted to the floor and bearing a disturbing resemblance to a semi-vertical stretcher. Cuffs were welded to either side and on the bottom, as well as crossed straps for the chest, one for the waist, and another to hold the forehead firmly in place. A computer terminal sat just behind the chair, and sprouting from beside its monitor were all kinds of instruments on long extenders, none of which looked remotely friendly.

Siv’s mottled skin grew pale, and he reached to his shoulder to grab Adrestin’s hand once again. Adrestin gently pressed Siv to his side and bent to whisper to him. “You can back out if you want to, Sivin. You can change your mind.”

Siv shook his head furiously. “No. _No,_ I have to do this. I _have_ to.” He swallowed hard and stepped forward, glancing around the room once again as he ran shaky fingers over the metal of the chair. The little droids seemed to have all settled into their alcoves and were mercifully still, their only motion the occasional twitch of a jointed leg. Brizx’t had moved to behind the computer, and was tapping happily at the keys as they started up whatever monster of a program that would assist them in their grisly occupation. Siv’s eyes flicked briefly over to Erion, who had stepped off to the side and was eyeing him curiously. There was still suspicion and vitriol lurking behind their sunburst eyes, but something in their aura through the Force was… hesitating? Or simply biding time, Sivin couldn’t tell.

Adrestin ran a hand over his back, once again leaning close. “They are withholding any further judgment until after this is over.”

“Eh?” Siv glanced up at Adrestin before looking back over at Erion and flashing them a weak and watery smile. “I hope I don’t disappoint them.”

Adrestin shook his head. “Do not worry about that. The only thing I want you focusing on right now is what you want for yourself. I know you are doing this for both Dom and myself, but I also know you are doing this for _you,_ as well. There is strength there. Focus on that.”

Siv nodded and braced himself as he stepped forward and climbed into the chair. Brizx’t came out from behind the computer and started to strap him down, lightly buzzing a tune to themselves as they snapped the cuffs and straps into place. Just as they were about to secure Siv’s head, Adrestin reached out and ran his hand over Siv’s forehead. He leaned down to place a gentle kiss, and reached out with warmth in the Force. “I will be right here beside you, Sivin. The whole time. I will not leave your side.”

Sivin smiled then, wavering but genuine. He took a deep breath and leaned back into the chair, nodding at Brizx’t.

“We will _begin_ shortly.” Brizx’t tapped Adrestin on the shoulder to get him to move, then put the final strap into place and secured Siv’s head to the chair. “Once we _do_ begin, there is no _reconsideration_ later. Do you _understand?”_

Sivin nodded. “I understand. So uh… how long might it take?”

Brizx’t clacked their mandibles in what Siv interpreted as being positively gleeful. “Usually a _procedure_ such as this takes _anywhere_ between forty and fifty _standard_ hours.”

“Heh, ah. Gotcha.” Siv gave them a wan smile. “I don’t suppose there will be any breaks, eh?”

Another clack of mandibles that read as nothing less than unbridled joy. “No breaks, _Master_ Jedi.”

“...Great.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _In and out._ _Slow, sure. Steady._ He reached out through the Force to connect with Adrestin, and found his warmth and gentleness and deep vibrating assurance already surrounding him in a blanket of Dark Side protection.

“...Okay. I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

 

* * * * * * *

 

_A burning like fire behind the eyes, and the bite of cold, piercing metal. A scream suddenly cut off by a lack of air, but a mouth still drawn wide in pain and terror. Tearing and rending, but of mind and not of flesh. Drowning without water._

Dom gasped as his eyes flew open and his body tried to sit bolt upright in his bed, but the tether of the life-support equipment yanked him promptly back. He lay there shaking, listening to the rapid click and beep of the monitors as the equipment worked itself overtime to compensate for his sudden jarring awakening.

Niam leaned forward from where he sat beside the bed, and gently patted Dom’s shoulder. “Easy there, sweetheart. Calm down, it’s okay. Just a nightmare, everything’s all right.”

Dom shook his head, frustrated with the cybernetics and the respirator that restricted his first instinct to flail. “It’s _not,_ though. Not just a nightmare. Something _happened,_ Niam.” He reached up and grabbed the hand stroking his shoulder, trying to fight back the urge to cough. “Tell me – is Sivin okay? Where is he?”

Niam’s face fell, and he looked away. “Aw man, why you gotta put me in this situation. Nobody wanted to stress you out any more than we had to, so nobody said anything. But yeah, uh...” He hesitated. “Look, maybe I shouldn’t be the one to tell you. He’ll be okay, though. The boss is with him.”

Dom’s forehead creased into a frown, and he glared up at Niam. “What’s going on.”

“Okay, okay, just stop with the angry face!” Niam waved his hands in surrender. “The tank’s getting his head checked out. They’re gonna remove the block the Jedi put in his mind. They said it’d be rough going, but he’ll be fine once it’s done.”

Dom’s white eyes widened. “Even I know that you can’t just _remove_ a mental block, Niam.”

“I know, I know.” Niam sighed and leaned back to tug on an unruly lock of his hair. “But the best in the Sith Empire is helping them. I promise it’ll be okay. It’ll just take a while.”

“...And in the meantime, Sivin is suffering.”

Niam hesitated before slowly nodding. “These things aren’t easy. But he wants that block removed.”

It was Dom’s turn to sigh. “I would too, if I were him. I’m just worried, is all. Really worried.”

“I know you are, sweetheart. But there’s nothing to be done about it on our end, except wait it out.” He tapped Dom on his nose. “And _you_ still have some healing up to do. Which reminds me. The doodlebug wanted me to let her know when you were awake. Be right back.”

Dom nodded as Niam got up and slipped out the door. It didn’t take more than a moment before Astele came bounding through the door, excitement written all over her face. “Dom! Dom! Oh man, I’m so glad you’re awake again! I have something for you!” She rushed up to the side of the bed and grabbed at Dom’s hand, grinning from ear to ear as she squeezed it. “You’re gonna _love_ this! Lemme go get it, hold on –” And she dashed out again before Dom could get in a word.

Niam was halfway through the door again by the time she rushed out, and he spun in a circle before looking from the doorway to Dom and back again. “Where’s she going?”

Dom could only shrug. “She said she had something for me.”

Niam’s perpetual lazy smile turned into a wide grin. “Ohh, gotcha. Yeah, she’s been excited about that.”

“What is it?”

Niam only grinned wider. “Let her tell you that.” After a cursory look at the monitor on Dom’s life support equipment, he made his way to the chair on the far side of the room and flopped down. “Oh yeah, and the administrator said that you won’t need all this machinery hooked up anymore. The boss really went overtime with you, you’re already about as good as you’re gonna get.”

Dom perked up at that, and glanced up to eyeball the blinking red and green lights above him. “When can we get it off?”

“Right about –”

Astele kicked open the door and wheeled in a cart, heavily laden with pieces of leather and metal. “Alright, here we are!”

“Right about now, I believe.” Niam winked at Dom and gestured to Astele. “But I’ll let the doodlebug do the honors. Holler if you need help. I’ll be right here.”

Astele’s grin was so wide it showed off all her teeth. “Alright Dom, let’s get you out of that awful thing and into something _way_ cooler.”

“What –”

“Come on, Come on!” She climbed up on the bed and started unhooking tubes and lines, bouncing in place as she did so. But despite her impatient enthusiasm she was careful and methodical, and after a few minutes everything that had tethered Dom to the bed was wrapped up and turned off. The only things still remaining were the cybernetics cleaved to his chest and the respirator unit covering the lower half of his face. “Alright, Dom. Gimme a minute, and then we’ll get you in front of a mirror.”

Dom just raised an eyebrow, but allowed Astele to help him sit up. He sat there patiently as she pulled piece after piece from the cart beside the bed and placed them over his cybernetics, some of them actually replacing small portions of what already had been bolted on. Astele’s smile never left her face, and once almost all of the pieces had been placed she was practically beaming at Dom. “Oh man, you look _so_ badass, Dom. Just one more minute, we’re almost done. Here, lean forward. You ready for that respirator to be replaced? I made another one for you that’ll fit better.”

Dom nodded, already enthusiastic. “I can’t _wait_ for this thing to be off. Will I… be able to breathe while it’s off?”

Astele glanced over at Niam, who shrugged. “You’ll be okay for a few minutes, but you’re not really at the point yet where you can have it off for much longer than that. It’ll take time.”

“I understand.” Dom let out a little sigh, but his eyes crinkled up at their corners as he tried to smile behind the rebreather. “But at least I know it’s not entirely permanent.”

Astele nodded in agreement as she released the straps that held the mask to Dom’s face. “And even when you have to use it, at least you’ll look _really_ awesome.”

Dom tried not to laugh as the respirator came off, and just after a few seconds his throat and chest felt heavy and sluggish. But Astele was quick, and in no time his new respirator had been clipped into place and once again he could breathe freely.

If Astele’s grin could have gotten any bigger, it would have split her face wide open. She hopped down from the bed and took a step back, scrutinizing Dom. “Oh man. You are officially _the coolest.”_

Dom smiled, and to his surprise he found that the motion came much easier than before. Though it still wasn’t very visible behind the mask of the respirator, at least he could smile without feeling like the edges of the metal were cutting into his face. “Alright, alright. Let’s have a look.”

Astele held out her hand and helped Dom down from the bed, and Niam got up from where he was sitting to help steady him as he found his feet for the first time in two days. But after a few steps he released their hands. “I think I can go on my own, this is… this isn’t bad at all. I feel pretty good.”

Niam nodded. “Just don’t overestimate what you can do, sweetheart. I don’t want the boss’s wrath coming down on my head for not watching out for you properly. If the old goat doesn’t get to me first.”

Dom just grinned and gestured to Astele. “So where’s this mirror?”

“Right around the corner. Come on!” She tugged gently on his hand, and led him to the opposite end of the room, where it took a turn to provide access to a storage closet and a sink. A full length mirror was bolted to the wall there, and as Dom stepped into its view he nearly stumbled back in surprise.

And then gasped, his eyes growing wide.

He _did_ look awesome. The leather and metal that Astele had tooled over his cybernetics was more like a heavily armored shoulder pauldron, going far enough down both torso and arm that it strapped around his waist and guarded his stronger hand. The respirator unit merged easily into it, with no stray wires or tubes anywhere betraying its true function. Instead, it was etched in the shape of a Beiruuin monitor’s jawbone, adorning Dom with a fierceness and intensity he’d never felt or seen in himself. He slowly reached up a hand to trace the edges of the metal, fascinated and awed. “Wow… Astele… How did you...”

“Do you like it?” She leaned forward to eyeball the both of them together in the mirror.

“I _love_ it.” His eyes crinkled up to betray his smile, and he caught Astele in a tight hug. “Thank you.”

Astele enthusiastically returned the embrace. “I’ll tweak it and make whatever adjustments you want as we go, so you can only get even _more_ awesome, right?”

He laughed and finally released her. “Right. Thank you, again. I couldn’t have imagined a better gift.”

“Yeah, well, you’re worth it, dumbass. Just don’t go getting stabbed by lightsabers as a habit though, deal?”

“Deal.”

Niam chuckled at the two and stepped forward to pat both of them on a shoulder. “If you’re feeling up for it, sweetheart, you could try going for a short walk. Just up and down the hall to start. I’ll wait here, and doodlebug can go with you.”

Dom nodded. “Sounds good. I really do need to stretch my legs.”

Astele rocked back and forth on her heels, already eager to go. “I’ll make sure you don’t fall over or do anything stupid. You’re not allowed to break yourself before Lord Belus and Master Eri come back with… with Siv.”

They ambled out the door, Dom leaning just a little on Astele to maintain his bearing. The halls were quite empty of people, and once they were out of earshot of Niam, Dom ducked his head down to speak quietly into Astele’s ear. “Is something wrong, Astele? With Siv?”

Her ears flattened. “N-no, just…” She scowled, eyes flashing bright for a moment. “He just nearly _killed_ you, Dom.”

“It was an accident.”

“I don’t care.” She huffed. “He would have killed all of us if Lord Belus hadn’t stopped him.”

Dom slowly shook his head. “That’s why he’s getting that mental block removed. He was brainwashed, Astele. The Jedi Order, the Council, they used him. Manipulated him. He wasn’t acting on his own.”

Her lower lip stuck out. “I guess not.”

“Don’t be too hard on him. He has a lot he has to deal with, and that mental block is just the edge of the asteroid field. But it’ll be okay. I trust him.”

Astele stopped in the hall and raised doubtful eyebrows. “Even after everything that happened?”

Dom nodded. “Even after everything that happened. I trust _him,_ I don’t trust what the Council _did_ to him.”

She pursed her lips and cast her eyes to the ground, thoughtful. A long moment of silence passed before she slowly nodded. “...Then I will too. If you do.”

Dom reached out a hand and grasped one of Astele’s, squeezing gently. “You okay?”

Her beaming smile returned in an instant. “Yeah. I just want _you_ to be okay. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

The crinkle of Dom’s eyes behind his respirator was unmistakable. He took Astele’s other hand as well, and leaned down to bump his forehead against her own. “Honestly? I’ve never been happier in my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brizx't is *really* fun to write, but I'm also secretly glad they're a minor character. So many droids. So. Many. 
> 
> And yaaaaaaaay finally at the point where Dom gets his New Look. I have been dying to draw him with his new respirator/armor/whatever-you-call-that, and now I cannnnnn \o/


	29. In Which We Have A Look Inside Sivin's Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrestin and Brizx't begin their assistance with helping Sivin remove the mental block in his mind. Things do not go quite as planned.

 

Stars. He was underwater, and floating through the stars.

Sivin squinted and shook his head, blinking his waterlogged eyes at what he was seeing. No, they weren’t stars. They were millions of little bubbles, greenish light scintillating over their surfaces and reflecting back at him. Whoa, interesting. Slowly he turned, trying to discern which way the surface actually was. But the bubbles never rose, and the greenish light that should have been coming from a sun somewhere above seemed only to ooze in all around him.

He opened his little-used gills and took a deep breath. Saltwater, then. He was in an ocean, wherever he was. Blinking through the haze of the watery depths, he twisted himself in a slow circle as he mentally did the same, trying to remember when he had left Niam’s colony world. For surely he couldn’t still be there, could he? That place was nothing but dust and rosy fog, a dim desert world with one rough oasis where people eked their living out of the stubborn land. This ocean was, literally, worlds apart.

That shouldn’t have made him burst into giggles, but he found himself laughing. His voice spread out in liquid echoes, dissipating slowly through the brine. Shrugging to himself, he pushed off in a random direction and started swimming slowly through the endless water.

 

* * * * *

 

“What is he seeing, Brizx’t?”

Both sets of mandibles clicked and buzzed in irritation, but they leaned to the side to glance down at Siv’s tight, drawn face. “Your _guess_ is as good as _ours_ _,_ Lord Belus,” they intoned, only partially managing to keep their obvious mirth out of their voice. “He is _within,_ and we are _without.”_

Adrestin nodded at the non-answer, and reached a hand out to run one of Sivin’s head tendrils through his fingers. “Can he feel me?”

“We _doubt_ it. He is _deep,_ very _deep._ It is only him and his _memories,_ that far. And whatever _place_ his mind has _created,_ that he goes to when he _sleeps_ but does not _dream.”_

Adrestin’s worried gaze never left his friend’s face. Siv’s eyes were screwed shut in so tight a grimace that Adrestin was afraid he would hurt himself, though the long pins penetrating each nasal opening on either side of his temples kind of rendered the worry of pain rather moot. Sivin’s hands were curled into fists, white-knuckled as his short nails dug into his palms hard enough to draw blood. His breathing came in shallow, irregular gasps, and beneath his tightly shut eyelids Adrestin could still see his pupils rapidly moving back and forth. “...If he is in a place that he goes to when he sleeps but does not dream, why is he experiencing REM?”

Brizx’t twitched, betraying irritation. “Because he _sees_ things, Lord Belus. _Obviously._ He is not _dreaming._ He is watching the _recesses_ of his own _mind.”_

“...And he will know when we begin to probe him for the mental block.”

A buzz of undeniable pleasure rose from Brizx’t. “He will _indeed._ But _first_ we must _enter._ Which he will _not_ be _aware_ of. It will take some _time_ for us to _find_ the block, as we will be _wandering_ in his mind until he _himself_ discovers it. _You_ are coming _with_ us. Are you _ready?”_

Adrestin flicked one pair of eyes over to where Erion stood across the room, their arms crossed and eyes narrowed as they hovered near the far wall. They nodded once to Adrestin, who returned the gesture to Brizx’t. “As ready as I believe I can be.”

“This will not be _pleasant,_ not for _any_ of us involved. You will _want_ to _brace_ yourself.”

“Noted. Begin.”

 

* * * * *

 

It seemed like he had been swimming for hours without finding anything different. Not even a change in the intensity of the light or a fluctuation of water density. Frustrated, Siv once again twisted around in a circle, only this time he popped one of the cuffs off of his tendrils and released it into the water. Eyeballing it, he waited for it to either float or sink, but it did neither. It just hovered in the water in front of him, as if it too had no idea which way was up or down. Siv shrugged and pushed off again but in a different direction, refusing to give voice to his rising suspicions.

It took mere minutes of swimming before he found himself approaching the same cuff in the water. Swallowing his fresh panic, he grabbed at it and hastily put it back on. “Okay then. You’re going in circles even when you’re going in a straight line. Calm down, Siv. Relax. Breathe. Physics doesn’t work like that. Which means...” He looked all around him again and slowly nodded to himself. “Which means this isn’t real. I’m hallucinating.”

He stilled himself in the water, letting his head tendrils float away from his head and dance slowly in the brine. He inhaled deeply of the saltwater, feeling it rush through his gills and filter out the oxygen, expelling the remaining fluid and invigorating his body. It was… okay, this wasn’t that bad, actually. He didn’t feel trapped, just lost and confused. He sighed and ran a hand over his face, laughing at his moment of panic. “Alright, for a hallucination I could have done way worse.” Though there wasn’t any up or down he twisted over on what he pretended would be his back, and floated there in the endless ocean. He closed his eyes against the strange greenish glow, and focused on his breathing.

In, and out. Slow. Sure. Steady. Soothing and peaceful. Like the pulse and flow of the Force. He let himself crack a tiny smile. Real or not, being back in the water felt good. The last time he’d been fully immersed had been… when?

...Gleiir. On Gleiir.

And suddenly he was there. Not in the waterways or bayous, but on the bare mountainside in the rain. Jarred by the sudden introduction of gravity, he fell to his knees and scrambled for purchase on the muddy ground. Once he managed to get his feet under him again, he slowly stood up and glanced around. And sure enough, right before him was the stump of the dead tree that he had methodically hacked to pieces. It still smoldered from the heat of his lightsaber.

“...Great. Alright, hallucinating something _else_ now...” He squeezed his eyes shut and hmmed to himself, but after a few moments he cracked his eyes open and sighed. “Still here, eh? Fine. Guess I can’t just magic myself away.”

He pointedly turned from the stump and loped down the hill. It didn’t take him long to cover the distance to the satellite temple, and he raised an eyebrow as he approached the hut that he had taken up residence in. “The lights are on. What the...”

Cautiously, he pushed at the door. And to his surprise he stepped right through, and was face to face with what could only have been his double sitting on his bed.

Stumbling back, his eyes grew wide in shock and he was just about to demand who this was, when he noticed the other presence in the tiny room. Zarinne was standing right beside him, halfway through him actually, and her tentacles came up to grasp his double’s hands. “We miss you, Sivin. Come home.”

...Oh. A memory, then. He flinched and turned from the sight, but even as he did so he found himself facing the same scene. He saw himself as he smiled up at Zarinne and squeezed her tentacles, rising to meet her as the two turned to leave the hut. He expected to hear his quiet “okay” that he had remembered responding with, but instead Zar’s expression hardened, and she spoke words he never remembered hearing. “Maybe they can _fix_ you. You’re broken, Sivin. I don’t want a broken commander. Nobody does. The Order has no use for broken Jedi, and you may be the darling celebrity of the Republic, but you are ultimately and undeniably replaceable. You had best hope that they can solder your heart and your head back together so you can become some semblance of useful again, because if you don’t, we’ll drop you like starship garbage before a jump to lightspeed.”

Sivin’s blood chilled in his veins, and a hard lump in his throat threatened to choke him. But his double merely smiled at her the way he remembered doing in his _real_ memory, and he watched in helpless despair as they left the hut together.

This couldn’t have happened. This _didn’t_ happen. He balled one hand into a fist and thrust it at the wall, and winced in shock and pain as his fist made contact with the stucco and left a sizable dent in its surface. “What –”

“It is not what it appears to be.” A voice seemed to come filtering down from the ceiling, making Siv jump. “Surely I taught you to see beyond first appearances, and investigate the core of a matter.” The shimmering form of a Mon Cal Jedi stepped forward through the wall and seated herself on the edge of the bed.

“M-Master Ydrin?”

 

* * * * *

 

The rush of water and the sudden loss of air in his lungs made Adrestin startle and flail, but the firm pincers of Brizx’t’s hands on his own brought him back to his bearings. Resisting the urge to inhale, he opened his eyes and met glowing red compound ones. A mental nudge from Brizx’t, and he found that he could breathe again. He gulped down air, nodding at Brizx’t in thanks.

They only blinked their compound eyes in their species’ version of rolling them. “And _this_ is why _you_ are not doing this _alone,_ Lord Belus. We can _modify_ this vision, but _only_ to a _limited_ extent. _You_ do not _have_ that luxury. _Keep close.”_

Adrestin inclined his head in compliance, and allowed Brizx’t to lead him by the hand through the water. “What are we looking for?”

“For an _opening._ But we are less _looking,_ and more _waiting._ The _Master Jedi_ must find the block _himself_ before we can _confront_ it.”

“Just tell me what I need to do, and I will do it.”

The buzzing of Brizx’t’s mirth made the water vibrate around them. “You _do_ what _you_ do best, _Darth_ Belus. When the _time_ comes, you _wipe_ it from _existence_ with the edge of your _blade.”_

Adrestin frowned, but nodded. “It is that simple? Even in Sivin’s mind?”

The dry tone of Brizx’t’s words couldn’t be hidden. “Your _friend_ is not _entirely_ creative. And despite the _Light_ that makes him _shine_ like a binary _star,_ he is not very _bright,_ now _is_ he? No. _No,_ if you destroy the block _here,_ you destroy it _everywhere._ But you must _bide_ your time. It is _Ikalruq_ who will _break_ it, and _you_ will finish it _off._ He _must_ be the first. _Otherwise,_ you run the _risk_ of replacing _one_ form of _brainwashing_ for another.”

“As in, destroying his mental block before he is prepared for it to be gone could force his mental struggles to latch on to the next strongest will it senses. And my own will could potentially brainwash him instead.”

Brizx’t stopped swimming for a moment and turned to regard Adrestin with a glitter in their compound eyes. “We _have_ always had a _soft_ spot for _philosophers._ They actually _possess_ the intelligence that so _many_ claim to have. Though they _never_ seem to _use_ it to its _fullest_ extent. _Quaint,_ but charming.”

Adrestin chose to take the compliment for what it was, and flashed them a smile.

And it was just then that a patch of darkness seemed to open up beneath them, yawning wide and sucking them down into its depths. Adrestin reeled with the strength of its pull, using the Dark Side to resist its inexorable pressure. But Brizx’t gripped his arm, and with a look they let go and slid into the depths of blackness. Taking a deep breath to center himself within his own coiling darkness, Adrestin followed suit and allowed the whirlpool to swallow him whole.

He landed with a wet _squelch_ in the middle of an algae-ridden pond, waist-deep and warm with the rot of decaying vegetation. Expelling his breath and raising one set of eyebrows, he looked around at his new surroundings in search of his companion. “Brizx’t?”

“Here.” A hooked claw reached down from the edge of a rough-hewn boardwalk, and Brizx’t peered over the edge. Their buzzing was muffled by their firmly clamped wingcase, but Adrestin shook his head as he took the offered hand. “You needn’t try to contain your laughter, Brizx’t. You are clearly entertained.”

“Algae _becomes_ you, _Lord_ Belus.” They delicately picked a slimy green strand from Adrestin’s scales, a single mandible clacking wide.

“Thank you, Brizx’t,” Adrestin said dryly, “But I believe I will stick to leather and studs.”

More muffled buzzing was the only reply Adrestin received, and Brizx’t took a turn to look down at the thatched buildings that the boardwalk led down to. “Where _has_ your Jedi’s _restless_ mind _taken_ us?”

Adrestin could only shake his head. “I don’t know. Those buildings are built in the style of a Jedi Temple, though. Perhaps one of their satellites.” He frowned. “Siv mentioned a world named Gleiir.”

“A recent memory.”

“Yes.”

Brizx’t clicked their mandibles in thought, and jerked their head in a nod. “Your Jedi is _remembering_ something here. _We_ must be _cautious.”_

 

* * * * *

 

The ghost of Sivin’s former Master inclined her head and arranged her luminescent robes about her knees. “After a fashion. We are in your mind, Ikalruq. You are seeing memories, but also your perceptions of them.” She opened one webbed hand to indicate the spot on the bed beside her.

“How do I stop it?” Siv obeyed the unspoken request and settled in beside her, eyes still wide from the shock of seeing someone long dead.

She shook her head. “You should not be trying to stop this. You should be learning from it. As always. I passed too soon, I see.”

Flinching a little under her reproving gaze, he could only bring himself to stare at his hands folded on his lap. He felt fully fifty years younger, being scolded once again for not being mindful enough.

The glow of Ydrin’s evanescent hand touched one of his own. “There is much fear in you, Ikalruq. There always has been. I tried to purge what I could, but you cannot fully deny your intrinsic nature. Not alone.” Her heavy head inclined towards the door, where Zarinne and Siv’s double had vanished. “And you fear that what your memory said is true.”

Siv made fists with his hands and nodded miserably.

“And what if it was? What then?”

Sivin’s heart clenched, and he blinked his eyes rapidly to avoid tears as he tried valiantly to meet his old master’s gaze. “I – I… I don’t know. I can’t fight this.”

“You are not meant to. The Order is not your enemy, Ikalruq. But we must protect ourselves from cracking within. If the foundations are undermined, the building collapses.”

“And I’m the crack in the walls.” He slumped his shoulders, still resisting the urge to curl in on himself.

Her smile was thin. “You have always been a risk, Ikalruq. That risk has paid off for many years now, but some things are not permanent. If you fail the Order, if you fail _yourself,_ it could shatter a carefully nurtured bond between the Republic’s common people and the Jedi Order. They trust you. They trust your face. You are a hero to them, whether you may or may not have earned that title. And the Jedi Order is struggling right now to maintain itself within the Republic. Maintaining your image as well is a great burden, Ikalruq. One we may not be able to afford if you fail us now.”

Something inside of Siv finally clicked into place, and he slowly nodded. “So… what you are telling me… is that the Order is afraid I’ll make them look bad if I do something stupid.”

One eye twitched but Ydrin’s smile remained, thin and rigid. “The Order is not _‘afraid’,_ Ikalruq. We are _concerned._ You showed so much promise even with your risk, and up until recently you have blossomed under the guidance of the Jedi Order.”

But Sivin had heard exactly what he needed. Adrestin’s words from earlier about leverage finally made sense, and he tilted his head at his dead Master. “How do you know all this, anyway? You’ve been dead for over three decades.”

Once again her eye twitched, and her smile vanished. “There is no death, there is the Force. Surely you did not assume those words had no meaning. Have you absorbed nothing that I have taught you?”

Again Sivin flinched, and his eyes dropped to the floor. The flicker of luminescent fingers over his own made him look down at his hand, and he got the vague impression that Ydrin had given his fingers a light squeeze.

“There is much I know, and much I have seen. And there is still much I can help you with, Ikalruq. There is still time. You can return to the Order once again. We are forgiving and merciful, and in time the Light will blossom within you as it used to, once again.”

Sivin’s eyes narrowed as he stared at their hands, a tiny suspicion growing. “...You know, even through all this, even through everything that’s happened, there’s one thing I know for sure. And I know it because Adrestin kept telling me, and even Erion told me, and even I can sense it. And the one thing I know is that the Light has never left me. I might have lost sight of it on occasion, but it’s always been there. I still shine, Master Ydrin.”

She stood abruptly, the shimmering luminescence around her flaring for a brief moment. “Only in comparison with your dark and dangerous new companions. You do not belong here, Sivin Ikalruq. Return to the Jedi Order. Resume your place. Know it again. You are still a Jedi, or so you wish so fervently to believe. _Act_ like one. Obey the Council and come home.”

But that little kernel of resolve within Sivin had already had opportunity to harden. “You may speak like Master Ydrin and you may actually be her Force ghost, or whatever, but you’re more than that, aren’t you? You’re something else, too.” He braced himself and stood up, using his height to give him just that much more confidence. He finally voiced his growing suspicion. “...You’re the manifestation of the mental block that the Council put in my mind.”

 

* * * * *

 

The boardwalk they were standing on suddenly twisted and buckled, nearly throwing Adrestin and Brizx’t back into the water. They scrambled for purchase, and barely managed to hang on. Brizx’t threw a glance behind them, up into the misty mountains. The landscape was rapidly fading, growing brighter as it was swallowed up in a blinding light. Brizx’t looked back at Adrestin, and mouthed one word. _“Run.”_

They sprang to their feet and half slid, half fell down the boardwalk as it writhed beneath them, making straight for the small collection of thatched huts that bordered the edge of the facsimile of a Jedi Temple. But before they could reach the first door, the light had already reached them. It swallowed them whole, and Adrestin felt himself falling.

 

* * * * *

 

Astele and Dom froze where they stood, a deep chill creeping up both of their spines as a rumbling vibration in the Force swept through the settlement. The ground quaked and pebbles dislodged themselves from the tunnel walls, followed by long seconds of eerie silence. But hard on its heels was a deep, echoing bellow, wracked with anguish, rage, and fear. It tore through the air and knocked them both straight to the floor, and tears sprang into Dom’s eyes. He gasped through his respirator, reaching for the Sith he knew wasn’t there. _“_ _No!_ _Adrestin!”_

 

* * * * *

 

Erion came to with a sudden jolt, and shook the skittering bodies of holocron droids off of them as they jerked their repulsor harness back into operation. They rubbed at a fresh lump on their head and looked around accusingly for whatever had dared to knock them out. <What was –>

But they didn’t have to wonder for long. Their eyes instantly fastened onto Adrestin, and in seconds they had rushed up to his side. <Belus! _Adrestin! >_ They shook his shoulder hard, but no response came. Adrestin still stood by Sivin’s side, but his spine was rod-straight and his head angled sharply at the sky. His hands were splayed, his claws hooked and fingers twisted as though he had tried to grasp something with too much strength. All four eyes were wide open and streaming blood, the sunbursts of Dark Side corruption so dilated they engulfed his purple sclerae and glowed with such a piercing fire that Erion couldn’t look directly at them.

Ignoring the slumped form of Brizx’t over the computer controls, Erion hovered in front of Adrestin and wrapped both arms around his neck. Their breath hitched behind their respirator, and they buried their face under Adrestin’s chin. <Don’t do this, Adrestin. Come back to me.> Tears rolled down their marked face and smeared against Adrestin’s scales. <...Please.>

 

* * * * *

 

The luminescent form of Sivin’s old Master brightened as her smile returned, cold and distant. “After a fashion.” She turned, and suddenly Sivin found himself in the halls of the first ship he had ever served on, both under Ydrin’s authority and as a freshly-minted Jedi Knight. She still stood before him, only now she was framed by the wide transparisteel windows of the bridge, looking out on a burning red sun. She ran a hand over the commander’s chair. “I agreed to become the keeper of your mental block, that is correct. The Jedi Council deemed it prudent for it to be held by one who knows you so well.”

Wary, Sivin paced slowly around the room. “That was a long time ago. People change.”

“So I see. But you are still, ultimately, predictable. People may change, but their core remains the same. And that is where we find ourselves, is it not?”

Siv glanced around, his gaze drawn by the brutally familiar red sun. _Ch’hodos._ “This is not my core. This is a memory. Your last. Why did you bring me here?”

She arched a delicate Mon Cal eye ring. “I did not bring you here, Ikalruq. _You_ did. It is _I_ who should be asking why.”

Siv shook his head in helpless confusion, but as he did so a heavy _clang_ and _thump_ from outside the bridge blast doors made him jump and back away.

Ydrin narrowed her massive eyes. “What have you done, Ikalruq? Who have you brought here?”

“I didn’t –”

But the blast doors slowly slid open, and through them spilled the roiling, thrashing darkness that permeated Adrestin like a cold undying fire. He stalked into the room, breathing heavily and wiping bloody tears from eyes that blazed with Dark Side corruption. He held one of his lightsabers loosely in his hand, unlit and held low. Behind him lingered the insectile form of Brizx’t, but they neither spoke nor entered the room.

Ydrin wheeled to point a webbed finger at Sivin, as her other hand reached for her own lightsaber. “You allowed a _Sith Lord_ to enter the inner recesses of your mind? What have you _done?!”_

Sivin held a hand out to stay Ydrin’s draw, trying to mask his relief at seeing Adrestin again and failing. “He’s my _friend,_ and he is _helping_ me.”

Ydrin took in her breath in a watery hiss. “He is no _friend,_ Ikalruq. He desires power and control. The only help you will receive from a Sith Lord will be whatever furthers their own ends.”

It was Sivin’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “...Sounds like you just described the Jedi Council instead.”

“How _dare_ you –”

“ _You’re_ the ones who did this to me! Because you couldn’t _control_ me!” Anger flared around Sivin, but he shook his head and took a step back. His breathing slowed, and he let out a weary sigh. “That’s not… that’s not the Jedi way. At least it’s not supposed to be. I don’t know what the Council and the Order have turned into, but it’s turned away from everything the Jedi were supposed to stand for so many millenia ago.”

Ydrin’s tone turned cold again. “And what would that be, Ikalruq? You were never much for analysis or philosophy.”

“I don’t need to be a philosopher to know that the Jedi Knight I wanted to be was one that served the greater good. Not just of the Order but for the galaxy as a whole. The Jedi I wanted to be was one that helped people who needed help, who rescued those who needed saving, who protected those who needed safety, who freed those who needed freedom. That is my true calling in the Force. I’m sure of it.”

She scoffed. “A child’s view of the Force. The universe is greater than that, Ikalruq.”

“Is it?” The more he spoke, the braver he became. “A little abandoned Jedi who gives without any thought for himself has taught me otherwise. A deadly Sith Lord who rescues those in need and adopts them into his life because they called out to him in suffering has taught me otherwise.”

“Tiny lives, Ikalruq. The Jedi have a higher calling than that.”

Sivin snorted. “What other kind of lives are there, old Master?”

Ydrin’s evanescent form glowed brighter, the blue edges of her frame blurring into white light. “There is the Force, my old Padawan. There is _only_ the Force. And you have forgotten to listen to the Light of its will.”

She activated her blade and gathered light in her free palm, thrusting it at Sivin so hard it threw him back across the room and into one of the computer terminals. “If you will not listen to words, you will yield to the power of the blade. It is the symbol of our authority, our birthright and our blessing. You will _yield.”_

But before she could advance on Sivin, Adrestin stepped up to thrust his own fiery orange blade between them. The _crackle-hiss_ of their lightsabers meeting threw sparks into the air, and the rumble of Adrestin’s Dark Side power echoed in the air and through the walls. “That is Sivin’s choice to make, not yours.”

Her light was so bright now that her features were obscured, leaving only the afterimage of her form. “Do not impede me, Sith. You will be swallowed by the Light.”

Adrestin snarled into what he estimated was her face. “I have already been swallowed by Light, messenger of the Jedi Council. And my Darkness prevailed.”

“Only temporary. We will – … wait… I know you...”

Adrestin shoved her back with the hilt of his blade, followed by the crackle of Dark Side power gathering in his free hand. A ball of darkness and purple electricity flashed and roiled against his palm, but he did not unleash its power. Instead, he turned his lower pair of eyes to where Sivin was leaning heavily on the computer terminal, slowly getting his breath back. “This is your fight, Siv. I can help you, but I cannot defeat this for you.”

He stumbled to his feet, but gestured helplessly at his side. “Are you forgetting I don’t have a lightsaber anymore? I can’t just –”

Ydrin’s light surged against Adrestin, driving him back. He braced himself and swung his blade in an arc, narrowly missing where her head must have been. She blocked it with the white light of her blade, and she steadily grew brighter. Adrestin snarled. _“Sivin!_ This fight is in your own mind! You need not have a lightsaber!”

But the glowing apparition that might once have been Sivin’s old Master merely flickered in contempt. “You cannot hope to win, Ikalruq. The lightsaber represents our destiny, our right, our _Force-given right_ to authority. Petty sentimentality will not win out against true righteousness.”

But Sivin had already found his feet and steadied himself. He had squeezed his eyes shut to the fight, and instead focused inward. And all around him.

And there was the Force. It was in Ydrin, it was in Adrestin, it was within himself. It was coursing through the air, threading through the ship, and pulsing in the red sun beyond. The ebb and the flow of its tides flashed with colour and dipped into darkness, then flared to life with blinding white light. Its current swept all around them, yet had no destination. No goal. No intent beyond the blossoming of life and the release of death, and the cycles that drew them together. He took a slow breath and opened his eyes.

One step took him that much closer to Ydrin. He bowed his head, eyes focused on trails of energy that were less visual and more visceral. Another step, and he brought himself within striking distance.

Adrestin’s eyes went wide. _“Sivin!”_

A pulse of triumph swept through his adversary, and her light swelled. “The lost Jedi returns to the fold.”

But Sivin’s head rose in perplexed confusion at her words. Head still cocked, he raised his bare palms to her in a gesture that might have been supplication or surrender, had they…

...Had they not been wreathed in crackling light, flashing with opalescent wisps of colour. He thrust the writhing energy at Ydrin, knees buckling as he did so.

She screamed. Screamed in helpless rage, in indignant offense, and horror at her own failure. Her light burst forth all around her, then faltered, then flickered, then died. She crumpled to the floor, and only her eyes glowed with the light that had just moments before enveloped her.

Adrestin stepped forward. With a swift arc of his blade, his lightsaber came crashing down over her head, severing it from her body. The light in her eyes went out, extinguished with the faint exhalation of a sighing wind.

A pressure on the back of Adrestin’s mind that he hadn’t been aware of before suddenly vanished, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Turning a weary and bloodied gaze to Sivin, he extended him his hand. “It’s over. Let me take you home, Sivin.”

But Sivin had slid back to press his spine against the stair he found himself lying on. His whole body had gone rigid, and his eyes were wide and dilated with the recollection of distant memory.

He had been here before.

He had _seen_ this before.

He had seen a massive Sith Lord, looming over his Master, shrouded in a cloak of darkness. He had seen them cleave his Master in two, and then turn their blade on him. And he had seen them relent and extend their scaled hand to him, offering one chance at escape.

Slowly, his eyes focused again. They found Adrestin’s worried gaze, and he swallowed hard. “...It was you.”

Adrestin cautiously crouched down, trying to meet his friend at eye level. “...Sivin?”

“It was you. All those years ago, just like this. On this ship. By this star.”

Sivin squeezed his eyes shut.

“You killed her. You killed my Master.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was arduous. I guess things have to get worse before they can get better?


	30. In Which An Old Memory Is Confronted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breaking the mental block in Sivin's mind has brought out an old memory, one that Sivin hadn't realized was connected to Adrestin.

 

“ _You killed her. You killed my Master.”_

All four of Adrestin’s eyes widened, and he carefully eased himself down on both knees. His voice was as gentle and as soft as he knew how to make it. “What was her name?”

“Dolirimai Ydrin.”

Recognition spread over Adrestin’s face, and he nodded. He hadn’t recognized the near-blinding apparition that the mental block had assumed as its form, but now that he had a name he saw the resemblance. He swallowed hard as he slowly reached his hand out to Sivin. “...It was a raiding party, over Ch’hodos. About thirty-five years ago.”

Sivin nodded, but his gaze was fixed on Adrestin’s hand. He made no move to take it. He waited, and Adrestin got the strong impression it was for him to continue his recollection.

He still held out his hand. “I was one of four Sith on the ship the Jedi had boarded. We resisted, and beat the Jedi off. We drove them back to their own ship. Six of your number were killed, and two survived. One Master, and...” He took a slow breath and closed his upper pair of eyes, remembering the mottled green skin of a hooded young Jedi, his eyes bright with tears and fearful defiance as he backed slowly away from the cloaked form of his Master’s killer. “...And one young Knight.” His hand inched forward to touch Sivin’s knee. “You.”

Sivin nodded, eyes still on Adrestin’s hand.

“I did not know, until now. I… have no words. I’m sorry, Sivin.”

He glanced sharply up, finally meeting Adrestin’s eyes. “Sorry for what?”

“The situation. I know it hurts you, to have this memory clarified.”

Sivin’s gaze dropped again, but this time he sighed. His rigid posture didn’t relax, but his shoulders drooped fractionally. “It’s not… that surprising, though, is it? I already knew you’ve killed many Jedi, and there was a distinct possibility that I had known some of them. And it’s strange, but… there was something familiar about you, if only vaguely. I dismissed it as too much experience encountering Sith.”

Adrestin shook his head, and carefully brushed fingers over Siv’s knee. “You called to me then, through the Force, much as you did back at the shrine with the hssiss.”

Siv’s eyes watched the motion of Adrestin’s fingers. “That’s why you spared me. When I was younger.”

He nodded. “You have felt familiar to me ever since, as well. I have made it a point to study the Jedi I felt would be most likely adversaries or encounters, and naturally the famous Sivin Ikalruq topped that list. It was strange, feeling we had met already.”

Sivin jerked away from Adrestin’s touch. “And why did you spare Master Sabolj-niv? He was the only other aboard the ship that survived.”

Adrestin’s fingers stilled, and he retreated his hand. “Honestly, I believed him to already be dead. He did not fall by my blade, and I did not sense his presence in the Force. He did well in masking it.”

Sivin drew in on himself, curling up against the short stair behind him. He gritted his teeth in a weak and humorless smile. “Thank you for being honest.” His eyes slipped shut for a brief moment, and he rapidly blinked them open when he startled from an involuntary doze. “...I guess... I shouldn’t ask if you would have... spared him otherwise.”

“I… do not know the answer to that one, Sivin. I have spared other Jedi for greater things, and killed them for less. But your cry in the Force that day softened my heart. There is a good chance I would have spared him regardless. But I could not say for certain.”

Sivin sagged back and nodded wearily. “I guess that’s... the best... answer I’m going to... get.”

Careful not to touch him, Adrestin delicately leaned forward and washed Sivin in protective waves of Dark Side power, gently probing his friend’s state through the Force. He was… exhausted. In pain, on edge, and so drained he could barely maintain his consciousness and his thread-bare composure in the Force. Whatever powerful energy he had focused in his hands to break the mental block, it had clearly pulled every ounce of strength he had to do it. His eyes had fluttered shut again, and Adrestin called gently to stir him once more. “...Sivin?”

His eyes barely cracked open. “Hn.”

“Let’s get out of here, and back into the real world.”

“Mm.” He made no move to get up, only blinked slowly up at Adrestin. A third eyelid slid out from the corners and slipped over each eye, rendering them milky and dull.

“Alright, we’re going. May I carry you?”

The wince Sivin reacted with broke Adrestin’s heart, but Siv dipped his head once in a facsimile of a nod. Taking a slow breath, Adrestin crept over to Sivin and delicately scooped him up in his arms, careful to support his head on his shoulder. “...Brizx’t? Do you know how to enable us to leave?”

Only then did Brizx’t step forward from their place on the other side of the open blast doors. “It is about _time,_ Lord Belus. _Master_ Jedi. You may _continue_ your strange _bonding_ rituals _outside_ of the _Jedi’s_ mind. Follow _us._ Master _Jedi,_ if you _will?_ Focus what _remaining_ presence you have in the _Force,_ and _concentrate_ on your _center.”_

Sivin cracked open his bleary eyes and managed a single nod before his milky lids slid back over his eyes. Brizx’t seemed satisfied with that, and turned sharply to march out the door. Adrestin followed with Sivin in his arms, and even as they walked through the blast doors the walls around them wavered and slid away. The floor beneath their feet turned soft and then soggy, before finally melting away into the starry green water of Sivin’s endless ocean.

Adrestin held his breath for the few seconds that it took for Brizx’t to adjust his reality to coincide, and he pressed Sivin a little closer to his chest. “What now?”

“When he loses _consciousness_ in _this_ reality, he will, for _lack_ of a better _term,_ flush us _out._ It will _hurt._ _Brace_ yourself.”

Sivin had cracked open his eyes once more at their conversation, and cast his bloodshot gaze up at Adrestin in a half-delirious question. But Adrestin just pulled him a little tighter against him. “Let go, Siv. Relax. Rest. We’ll be all right.”

The low sounds of Adrestin’s vibration made the water around them ripple and dance, and Sivin’s eyes slid closed once more. Mere moments passed before the green water around them began to grow thick and darken, and with the sudden sound of rushing water Adrestin felt himself being sucked down into the depths of a sudden yawning abyss.

 

* * * * *

 

A sudden raw scream from Adrestin’s throat and a violent rumble that shook the entire ship threw Erion to the floor. They scrambled to right their repulsor harness, holding their hands to their ears at the high-pitched shrieking that could only be coming from Brizx’t as they writhed in their place slumped over the computer terminal. Sivin thrashed in his restraints, the vice-like hold of the straps against his head and neck the only thing preventing the pins in his head from ramming through to his brain.

Erion struggled back to Adrestin’s side and clung once more to him, this time curling their arms around one of his own. And with a sudden sharp _pull_ and _snap_ in the Force, the rumble stopped and the screaming died, and Adrestin fell boneless to the floor.

Erion tried their best to ease his fall, but Adrestin’s bulk prevented them from doing much other than ensuring Adrestin didn’t crack his skull on the floor on his way down. They cradled his head on their lap and stroked his horns, blinking furiously in a futile attempt to prevent any more tears from streaking their face.

It seemed like hours, but only minutes had passed before Adrestin stirred and cracked one pair of eyes open to peer up at Erion. Relief flooded their half-seen face as Adrestin smiled up at them, and they curled their arms around his shoulders and pressed their forehead against his own. <You _worried_ me. >

A genuinely apologetic look crossed Adrestin’s eyes, and he reached his arms up to cradle the sides of Eri’s face. “I have no intention of ever needing to do this again.” He pulled Eri’s face down to place a gentle kiss on the part of their respirator that covered their mouth.

<Good.>

Adrestin released his friend and wearily got to his feet, eyes immediately going to Sivin’s bound form still strapped to the chair. He had stopped thrashing, and lay there sagging in his restraints. Blood trickled slowly from where the pins penetrated his head, and another thin line of brown-red fluid oozed from a corner of his mouth.

“Siv!” He rushed to his side and used the Force to snap open half the restraints while his hands worked free the others.

Brizx’t came to as Adrestin was rushing to free his friend, and they blinked twitchy compound eyes up at them. “He has a _pulse_ , yes?”

Adrestin could sense Siv’s life signature in the Force – faint and fluttery and still very much alive – but he checked his throat for a pulse anyway. “Yes.”

“Remove the _pins_ before _releasing_ his _head_ restraints. He will _recover. Congratulations,_ we have _freed_ your Jedi.”

Adrestin obediently slid the pins carefully from Sivin’s nasal openings on either side of his head before unstrapping the rest of the restraints. With as much gentle care as he had within him, he tucked his arms around Sivin and pulled him from the chair. Pressing Siv’s body tightly against his chest, he turned to Brizx’t. “Thank you, my friend. I will pay you in whatever form and amount you wish that I am capable of.”

Brizx’t’s glowing eyes glittered from a thousand facets, and their mandibles opened wide in an eerie Vratix smile. “We need _not_ your _friendship,_ and we are _sure_ you will pay _happily_ and _dearly,_ in one _form_ or _another._ That _discussion_ is for another _time._ We must _rest,_ we must _recover._ We must _compile_ and _process_ all our _data._ Then we will _discuss_ payment.” Their mandibles clacked shut, and the buzzing of their laughter filled the air. “That is for _later._ Now get off our _ship.”_

Nodding at Brizx’t with a ghost of a smile, Adrestin turned to leave. Erion floated up to his side and rested a hand on the side of one arm, peering up curiously at Siv’s slack face as Adrestin led the way out of the room. They made a line straight for the boarding ramp, studiously ignoring the scuttling droids that hastily cleared a path for them as they went.

Both Adrestin’s and Erion’s eyes widened as they left the ship. It was night – though neither one was entirely sure of the exact date, they could only assume that Brizx’t’s estimate of forty to fifty hours of mental contortion and strain was accurate. But that was not what gave them pause.

Domthus was pacing back and forth just beyond the boarding ramp, clad in Astele’s new cybernetic armor she had fashioned for him. Waves of anxious worry and steel-hard determination coursed through him in the Force, bolstering his rapidly fading shreds of energy. He had clearly been there ever since they had started, and the rumpled shapelessness of a blanket wadded up on the ground against one of the boarding ramp’s supports betrayed where he had slept when he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. Niam lay curled up next to the blanket with one corner of it thrown over his shoulder, sound asleep and snoring softly.

Dom paused and turned when Adrestin’s footfalls alerted him to their presence, and he looked up with blatant relief pulsing through his Force signature.

Both Adrestin and Erion’s brows rose in surprise at the face that greeted them. The lower half of a skull’s jawbone adorned the new respirator mask, but Dom’s same wide innocent eyes and soft velvety horns shattered the illusion of menace. He took in a loud gasp when he saw them, and rushed to their side. He shifted from foot to foot in worry, clearly trying to resist his first impulse to throw himself into their arms. “Adrestin! Eri! Are you okay? I heard – I felt – I couldn’t just – oh _stars,_ is Sivin alright?”

Adrestin hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. “I believe he will be, Dom. He needs time, and rest. Things you need as well.”

Niam stirred at the noise of their conversation, and he rubbed at his eyes before startling to his feet. “Whoa – hey boss, I uh – look, I tried to get him to stay in bed, but he listens about as well as the doodlebug and –”

Adrestin waved him off with a shrug of one shoulder. “Later, Niam.”

“Right. Later.” He clapped his mouth shut, and trailed behind them as they started the trek back to the settlement.

As they walked Eri released their grip on Adrestin’s arm and instead looped it through Dom’s, practically purring with pride into his ear. <Astele has done excellent work. Your new equipment fits you well.>

Despite the worry he was feeling over Adrestin and Siv, a delighted shiver ran up Dom’s spine and his eyes crinkled up in an embarrassed grin. “T-thank you, Eri.”

<Though you should not be pushing yourself as you evidently are. Do not let Lord Belus’s effort of healing you be in vain.>

Dom ducked his head in guilty apology. “I’m sorry, Eri. I just… I couldn’t stand it. At least out here I could still… feel you. Know that you were still alive. Niam didn’t know what to tell me when I asked him what to expect, so I just… assumed the worst. Feared the worst.”

Eri slowed their pace just enough to trail behind Niam as they made their way through the streets of the settlement, and quietly inclined their head to Dom. <What did having that fear make you feel?>

Dom shrugged, simply relieved he wasn’t getting an earful of scolding. “It made me mad. At first it was because no one told me what was going on, so how could I even hope to help? _If_ I could. But then it was because it even had to happen at _all.”_ He huffed. _“_ What did they _do_ to Siv? He doesn’t deserve this. He’s a _good Jedi._ All he ever wants to do is help people and live up to their expectations.” His anger flared once more at the Order and Council he had so recently left behind, and it coloured his aura in the Force with vibrant pink and maroon.

Eri gently squeezed his arm. <They betrayed his trust and used him for their own ends. What the Jedi Order always does to those who put their faith in them.>

Once again Dom’s anger flared, but it died back quickly into weariness. “I’m so tired of this, Eri. I just want us all to be happy.”

He leaned to the side to rest his head against Eri’s shoulder as they walked, and Eri moved to wrap their arm around his waist instead. <I desire the same, among other things. But it will not end, Dom. Not until one or the other of the Jedi or the Sith are no more.>

“Too much bad blood between, I guess.” He closed his eyes and let Eri guide his steps along the street. “I wish more Jedi were like Siv. And I wish more Sith were like you and Adrestin and Astele. You actually give Jedi a chance.”

Inwardly, Erion flinched as if they’d been stung. Outwardly they only squeezed Dom fractionally closer.

 

* * * * *

 

They had not brought Sivin to the infirmary, but rather one of the square clay buildings near the outskirts on the other side of the settlement. It was Niam’s own house – designed with visitors like Adrestin directly in mind, so its rooms were spacious, ceilings high, and doorways wide. Adrestin had settled Siv in one of the guestrooms, and sat on the edge of the plush mattress stroking Siv’s head tendrils. It had taken him several minutes of cajoling to persuade Dom to get some rest in one of the other rooms, but he had ultimately relented when they had commed Astele to come and keep him company. They were both already sound asleep just across the hall, and from the adjacent room Adrestin and Erion could hear Niam also, snoring softly.

<When your Jedi recovers, you and I are going to talk.>

Adrestin nodded, matching his quiet tone to Eri’s so they wouldn’t disturb the sleeping members of the house. “Of course, Eri. I appreciate your patience with me.”

<But first you must tell me what happened. Something is very wrong. I sense it.>

Adrestin gave them a soft, sad smile. “I… both Sivin and I discovered that we had met each other prior to our encounter with the hssiss at the shrine.”

Eri snorted. <That is hardly world-shattering. Elite warriors on either side of our war are not as huge in number as one often perceives. The likelihood that you had encountered each other before was relatively high.>

“Mm.”

<But that is not what is wrong.>

Adrestin shook his head. “It was a Jedi raid on the ship I was aboard, escorting it to Ch’hodos. About thirty-five years ago. I don’t suppose you remember me mentioning that trip.”

Erion raised a thin eyebrow. <Hardly. I was seven, Belus.>

Adrestin gave them a weak laugh. “Fair enough. It wasn’t a remarkable event either, just one among many raids I had broken up over those years. Before I began collecting lightsabers, even. But six of eight Jedi were killed.”

Erion nodded slowly. <And Ikalruq was one of the two survivors. I take it.>

“Yes. And one of the dead had been his former Master. She died upon my blade. In front of his eyes.”

Eri’s eyes flicked over to Sivin’s unconscious form, and their expression softened just a fraction. <...I see.>

Adrestin doggedly continued. “I was cloaked and he was hooded, so we only remembered the barest of details about one another. Not enough for any clear recognition. But the memory returned with a vivid clarity while we were destroying the mental block, and he made the connection.”

<...This complicates things.>

Adrestin blew out a soft sigh. “We will work it out. If he wishes to. Just as we will work out the rest.”

<I will leave you to that, then.> Erion inclined their head down to Sivin. <He is dreaming, his sleep shallow. He will wake soon.>

Adrestin watched his sleeping friend, noting his irises moving beneath his eyelids and the twitching of one of his hands. “Thank you, Eri.” He reached up and caught Eri’s good hand in his, and turned it over to kiss the palm. “You have long been my closest and dearest friend. I love you. I do not say it enough.”

Eri’s eyes crinkled up around their respirator, and they slipped their hand from Adrestin’s grip to run it over the scales of his face. <I do not ask you to, you sentimental sap.> Their words were light and almost playful, even as they flicked Adrestin on the snout. <Tend to your Jedi. I will go sleep.>

“Mm.”

Adrestin watched Erion float from the room until they finally waved the door closed behind them. He turned back to Sivin, resisting the urge to lean forward and smooth the worry lines over his forehead. His eyes had stopped moving underneath his eyelids, but his breath was deepening and a little groan escaped as he shifted in his slow wakening. One bleary eye cracked open, slipped back shut, and then both slowly peered up at Adrestin as Siv stretched himself awake. Adrestin very nearly wished him a good morning, but the tension in Siv’s body and the caution in his eyes made him stop before he even opened his mouth.

Siv just lay there and looked up at him for several long moments. But then he sighed and let his eyes slip closed once more. “...Thank you for carrying me out of there. And for… staying by my side.”

Adrestin’s hands itched to gather up his friend closely in his arms, run his fingers through his tendrils, and rub soothing circles over his back, but instead he folded them firmly on his lap and gave Siv the gentlest smile he had. “I will be by your side for as long as you want me there, Sivin.” The low sounds of his vibration grew a little louder and deeper, and he tilted his head to the side. “How do you feel?”

A sad, haunted smile flickered briefly over Sivin’s face. “Like shit.”

Not knowing what to say, Adrestin shifted in his place by Siv’s bedside. “Is my presence helping? Or hurting you further? I will go if you wish me to.”

“No, don’t –” Siv’s tension intensified as one hand came up and almost grabbed for Adrestin’s arm, but it fell back to the bed without making contact. “– Don’t go.”

Adrestin settled in his place once again, nodding slowly. “...I understand the pain I have just caused. My role in the death of someone close to you is not something I will brush aside or pretend has no consequences.”

But Sivin merely shook his head. “We weren’t close.”

Pausing to blink both sets of eyes, Adrestin cocked his head. “You were her Padawan.”

Siv let out a short laugh, full of such lost and lonely bitterness it made Adrestin wince. “As if that means she cared about me. Of all the people I’ve ever met, she was probably the one that had wished me dead the most.”

Adrestin’s mouth dropped open in surprise before he snapped it shut. Both pairs of eyes searched Siv’s face for signs of what he was feeling, Adrestin’s worry over his friend growing.

Siv ignored the look. “It wasn’t… we didn’t have a normal Master-Padawan kind of relationship, okay? She was assigned to me, she didn’t pick me. I wasn’t wanted, and I knew it. She taught me what I was supposed to know, I learned what I was supposed to learn. I stayed out of her way as best I could. But I ruined what should have been her most promising years at the Temple, just by being there. I know because she told me. So no, there was no love lost between us. But that doesn’t mean I wanted her dead at the feet of a Sith.”

Adrestin flinched and cast his eyes to the floor.

But Sivin hastily waved it away. “Look, I… It was a shock, yeah. Realizing it was you. Reconciling memories that old with what I know about you _now_ is… well, it’s really _weird._ Particularly since thinking deep right now hurts like a servo-kriffer. I’m not… I’m not _mad_ Adrestin, please stop looking at me like I’m going to swear I never want to see you again. I could never do that, it would kill me. It was just…”

“Frightening.”

Siv squirmed. “The thought, yeah. Knowing, from actual recollection this time, that you’ve killed even more people I care about.”

Adrestin’s eyebrows shot up. “More?”

Sivin’s face grew stony. He closed his eyes and took a deep, slow breath before opening them again. Then held up both hands, his fingers slowly counting down. “Dolirimai Ydrin. Gess’ra’bruth. Tex Gashigan. Zeth Tey. _Isra_ Tey. Hedge Wishteri. Ffol-vro E-ey.” He paused for a second longer than the rest. “Halde Digar.”

Every name held recognition for Adrestin. Aside from the first, he had the lightsaber of every Jedi that Sivin had just counted hanging on the walls of his shrine. Five had been BrightWatch. The rest had been before BrightWatch had even been created, and he could only assume that they had all been people Sivin had cared for. He squeezed his upper pair of eyes shut, once again finding himself without any words adequate enough to say.

But Sivin was filling in the silence on his own. “As hard as I’m finding it to trust my own Order, I can’t really doubt the battle reports and casualty lists. They compiled them and showed them to me when I went to them for... ‘help’. I knew you’ve killed Jedi, Adrestin, but I was just...” He ran a hand over his eyes as he took a shaky breath. “There were so _many._ And those are only the ones we _know_ about. How many more Jedi have you taken from us, that we don’t even know was you? How many were Jedi _I_ knew?”

Adrestin could only shake his head.

“So yeah. It’s frightening. It’s _kriffing_ frightening. Because I know that if they’re not people you love, then you don’t care.”

“That is not entirely true, Sivin. I remember every life I have taken. I do not take that lightly. But it is true that I often do not hesitate to kill those who I have no personal attachment to. We are at _war,_ and on opposite sides. It is very often a necessity to do so. I do not kill for fun or enjoyment, Sivin.”

Siv sighed and cast his arm over his forehead, just enough that he could still peer up at Adrestin. “...I know. And I know I’m not innocent in all this, either. I _don’t_ know how many Sith I’ve killed. I don’t know their names, I don’t know their history. I don’t know anything about them. I don’t keep track. My list could be even longer than _yours,_ and I wouldn’t know it. I’m not accusing you, and I’m not blaming you for anything either. It just...”

“It is troubling, and disturbing. _Both_ sides of this. And it worries you most because we are friends.”

Sivin nodded mutely, his arm dropping down to hide his eyes.

Adrestin leaned forward to brush fingertips to Sivin’s arm. “Everything I have ever said to you still stands. I will never knowingly hurt you, Sivin. And... That extends to the people you care about.”

Sivin pulled his arm from his eyes and gazed quizzically up at Adrestin, head tilted.

Adrestin paused and frowned, turning a thought over in his head before slowly nodding to himself. Decision made, he met Sivin’s gaze and spoke slowly, carefully. “...If… If hurting someone else hurts you because you care for them, even if I do not, I would rather die than knowingly cause them harm.”

Sivin’s eyes grew wide and his eyebrows shot up. “That is… not something a Sith Lord can say easily, Adrestin.”

“No, it is not.”

The first genuine smile since they had entered Brizx’t’s ship spread over Siv’s face, soft and warm. “I know you’re not promising me you won’t hurt _anyone,_ ever – I know you’re still a Sith Lord – but it’s still... huge. _Huge._ I don’t know why you’d do that for me, but I’m… I’m honored.”

Adrestin matched the smile. “Because I love you. I cherish our friendship. You mean so much to me, Sivin.”

Though technically he knew them already, the words still knocked the breath out of Sivin. Tears suddenly stung his eyes, and his mouth ran dry. Heart thumping loudly in his chest, Siv reached for Adrestin. “Would you… hold m–”

Adrestin lurched forward and engulfed him in his arms, pressing his face into his head tendrils. His low-frequency vibration grew so deep it was almost entirely felt instead of heard, and he sat back to pull Siv across his lap and snug against his chest.

Siv’s tears spilled out messy and unhindered, and he clutched tightly at his friend’s shoulders. He stayed that way, just breathing in and out against Adrestin’s scales and feeling their hearts beat, chest to chest. The intensity of Adrestin’s embrace relaxed just enough for him to start rubbing gentle circles into Siv’s back, and Siv arched into it. He sighed and consciously relaxed every muscle in his body, letting himself slump against his friend as Adrestin worked at the knots of tension up and down his neck and shoulders.

“...Feel good?”

Siv let himself smile against Adrestin’s skin. “Mm.” He still couldn’t stop crying, even though he squeezed his eyes shut in a halfhearted attempt to stave off the tears. Adrestin was so… _Good_ to him. Though Sivin had internally made the same promise to his friend that Adrestin had just made to him, he hadn’t vocalized it, hadn’t actually offered the same. But Adrestin didn’t ask him to. Hadn’t even implied it. He only gave what he had to offer, without asking for anything in return. He buried his face against Adrestin’s chest, heart swelling almost to pain as he clutched around Adrestin’s neck. He wanted so _badly_ to reflect everything that Adrestin had given him, to be everything for Adrestin that Adrestin had been for him, to be his support and his shield and his rock. But he had no idea _how_ to be any of those things, not when he could barely go a day without falling apart.

But Adrestin could feel the wetness against his scales, and the tightness of Sivin’s clinging hands. He could not read Sivin’s thoughts, but the feeling of want and need was almost overwhelming. He gently pulled Siv away from him, just enough that he could see his face. He cupped the side of Siv's cheek and ran his thumb underneath his eye, brushing away the tears. “What do you need of me, Sivin? Whatever it is, I will give it.”

Sivin blinked wide watery eyes up at him, and Adrestin’s gentle smile grew ever warmer. He leaned down to place a soft kiss over Sivin’s lips, all four eyes twinkling with affection. “I will be for you whatever you need me to be.”

Confusion blossomed around Siv. “If... if you're asking me to be a lover, I can't – I don't –”

Adrestin shook his head. “I have no innate desire or ulterior motive for romance or a sexual relationship, but if that is what would make you happy or if that is what you need, then that is what I want. But if you do not wish for that, then neither do I.”

It was Siv's turn to shake his head. “I don't need that. Not from... heh, not from anyone.” He curled his fingers around Adrestin's hand and nuzzled his palm. “You're my closest friend, one of only a few I've ever truly trusted, and the most gentle and understanding person I've ever met. You're already everything I could ever ask for.” He leaned in to press himself against Adrestin, sighing and smiling into his chest when he pulled him close once again. “You ask me what I want? I want this. I don't need anything else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MUSHY TOUCHY-FEELY LEVEL IS OVER NINE THOUSANDDDDDDD
> 
> I don't know if I ended this chapter a little too abruptly, but there really wasn't anything to say after that ~heartwarming~ moment, so I just... left it as is. Gotta let these guys get a breather in before dunking them back in the angst pool, after all.


	31. In Which There Is A Sith-To-Sith Heart-To-Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sivin and Adrestin talk a little bit about what kind of options they might have, and a few political details are explained. But Erion needs to talk to Adrestin, and the two Sith finally sit down and discuss Eri’s concerns about Sivin.

The quiet sound of Adrestin’s voice dragged Sivin to consciousness slowly and grudgingly, and he didn’t even bother to open his eyes. He could feel Adrestin’s clawed fingers playing with the ends of his head tendrils, and the low almost-hum of his tonal vibration made him feel warmer and cozier than even the soft blankets they were buried in. But Adrestin’s voice was what had woken him, and he slowly fixed his sleepy attention on what he had been saying.

“Thank you again, Acerra. I appreciate your effort. We will remain here until your reinforcements arrive. Do you have an estimate for how long that might be?”

The tinny crackle of a comm unit clued Sivin in that Adrestin must be on a call. The volume had been dialed back to avoid unnecessary noise, and whoever was on the other end – this Acerra – kept her voice down as well. Undoubtedly Adrestin had already informed her there was someone sleeping in the same room. “I will be there with Nothus and Glaucus by the following… Hold on, let me check my chronometer to adjust for local times.”

Sivin cracked open an eye at the vague recognition of names, and squinted up at Adrestin. Hadn’t Nothus been the Hutt that had returned Graz to Lord Dirae back on Bosthirda? Siv thought he remembered hearing him mention the other two names as well back then.

But Adrestin had raised the eyebrows over one set of his eyes as he looked down at his comm, unaware that Siv was awake. “Can the Tribunal afford to have two of its core members defending a minor settlement world? Particularly when they still have to keep a close eye on the Dark Council?”

Acerra sighed from the other end of the comm. “The Tribunal is almost giving up on the Council, Belus. We’re working almost entirely independently now, as if we were… well I suppose we _are,_ a shadow government within the Empire. I know you have been relatively out of the loop for a while now, but surely you are aware that we have our own politics and support system in place. Our own armies, our own laws, even our own worlds.”

Adrestin nodded at the comm. “I am aware. The Tribunal has gone through great effort to salvage the finer points and greater diversity of Sith heritage. One of the many reasons I have backed what you are doing so enthusiastically over the years. I am just surprised that the Emperor has not held the Tribunal in a tighter grip.”

Soft laughter filtered through the comm. “The Emperor doesn’t even seem to _care._ Or notice, at least. He is so caught up with messing with the Republic and amassing his own personal power in the Force, that he has practically forgotten about the Tribunal.” Her voice swelled with pride, but not volume. “What he once dismissed as a superfluous remnant of cultural divergence has grown into a powerful force of will in its own right. And when he dies, or the Empire falls once again – which it will, be it a decade or a century or ten thousand years from now – everything the Tribunal has worked so hard to build and protect will still be there to pick up the pieces. And ensure that the Sith do not go extinct. In secret, if we have to.”

“I’m glad to hear it. An-Drend cannot be the only bastion of knowledge for Sith culture and variety of experience. It preserves but memories, after all. Not the true vibrance of life.”

Acerra snorted, but there was a lightness to her derision. “Your library is enlightened idealism, even for Sith. But I know what you are saying. Vitiate has seen to it that the Sith are viewed by the rest of the galaxy as monsters and abominable horrors, but your fortress has recorded otherwise. It stores valuable knowledge. But the Tribunal intends on maintaining actual lives.”

“A greater calling, by far.”

“A less scholarly one, at least,” she chuckled. “But in any case. We should be there by the following local morning, or so my chronometer tells me. I have kept you too long, you have a pet Jedi to get back to.”

Adrestin shook his head and smiled at the comm. “I will be glad to see you again, however briefly. And I will be sure to introduce you to Sivin.”

“I’d like that. Do try not to tell him too many horror stories, before then.”

“I’ll try.” Adrestin’s smile widened into a grin as he rolled one set of eyes. “Until then, Acerra.”

“Until then.”

The comm clicked off, and Adrestin shifted to set it on the nightstand beside the bed. He turned back to gaze down at Sivin and he beamed when he saw Siv looking back up at him, eyes still sleepily half-lidded. He ruffled the head tendrils still threaded through his fingers. “Good morning. Did I wake you?”

Siv returned his smile. “Is it actually still morning?”

“I think so.” One pair of eyes flicked to a wall chrono hanging off to his left. “Ah, yes. Still almost an hour left of morning.”

“Ooh, almost an hour. We’re such early risers.” Siv leaned his head in to press against Adrestin’s hand. “Mm. Keep doing that, it feels good.”

Adrestin complied and wrapped another of Siv’s tendrils around his hand, tugging gently as he smoothed them over the pillow. “In my defense, I have been awake for a few hours. Just not out of bed.”

“Making some calls to see who can help defend the colony, eh?”

“Indeed.”

“Gotta admit, hearing you talk about the Sith Tribunal helped clarify a few things. We don’t really hear much about them in the Republic. Hardly anything at all, really. They mostly exist as a disbelieved rumor, more than anything else.”

Adrestin nodded. “As it should be. They have downplayed their true power and extent to the Emperor and the Dark Council, and deliberately shielded themselves from the prying eyes of outside forces.”

“Why though?” Siv squirmed around to lie on his stomach so Adrestin could reach more of his tendrils. “Seems kind of weird to have a whole other super-secret government on the sidelines, without your ‘official leadership’ clued in.”

“Honestly? Because the Sith deserve better than the Empire. Because our _beloved_ Emperor and his pocket Council are all, for lack of a better term, half-witted, hamfisted, meat-headed imbeciles.”

Sivin nearly choked on laughter. “Tell me how you _really_ feel! _Wow,_ Adrestin.”

One corner of Adrestin’s mouth quirked up. “Though it largely remains unknown to the rest of the galaxy, there are billions of Sith who feel the same. Hence, the Tribunal and the worlds they surreptitiously maintain leadership over. You’re on one of them right now.”

Siv nodded into his arms. “I’ll be sure to keep all this to myself.”

“Mm. Thank you.” Adrestin continued to run his fingers through Siv’s tendrils, but he slowed when he brushed over the root of one of the two that he had severed during their lightsaber combat. He delicately traced a finger over its abbreviated length, face pensive.

Siv turned his head just enough so he could meet Adrestin’s eye. “What’s wrong?”

“I… remember telling you that I would never knowingly hurt you.” His finger ran once more down the remaining bit of tendril. “And yet...”

Siv rolled back over and shook his head. “That was different, Adrestin. You have no reason to feel bad about it, after what happened.”

“Mm.” Adrestin’s brow furrowed in thought. “One moment.” He got up and pulled two of the smallest pouches from his belt, ensuring they were empty before tossing them on the bed next to Sivin. He began rifling through the set of drawers in the nightstand, but apparently did not find what he was looking for and instead started to systematically rummage through every drawer and cabinet in the room.

Sivin sat up and tilted his head at his friend. “What are you looking for?”

“This is Niam’s house, he has to have some _somewhere…_ Ah, here we are.” Adrestin pulled out several lengths of black silk ribbon from the wardrobe across the room, collected a hand mirror from the cabinet beside it, and sat back down on the bed. He began threading the ribbon through the loops of his pouches, a low hum mingling with his perennial vibration.

Siv raised an eyebrow. “What _are_ you doing?”

He shrugged. “I am fashioning some caps for your severed tendrils. Here. See?” He held up the pair of pouches, head tilted.

Siv’s other eyebrow came up, but he twisted around so Adrestin had better access to his head and shoulders. “Alright, alright, put them on. If I look ridiculous, I’ll even the score by putting streamers on your horns.”

Adrestin smirked as he slipped the caps over the severed ends of Siv’s tendrils and braided the ribbon up the rest of their roots. “I thought Jedi did not seek revenge.”

Sivin laughed and held up his fingers in a gesture of sarcastic quotation. _“‘Justice’,_ my good Sith. Never revenge. Because there is _such_ a difference.”

“Oh, of course. My mistake.” Adrestin snickered and handed Siv the mirror. “Well?”

A wide grin spread over Siv’s face. “Hey, nice. Alright, I’ll let you off easy this time.”

“I am ever at your mercy, o Warrior of the Light.” Adrestin beamed as he took the mirror from Siv and set it on the nightstand before flopping back into bed.

Siv followed his example and burrowed back under the blankets to pillow his head on Adrestin’s arm. “Thank you, though. It looks great.”

“Mm.” Adrestin nuzzled the top of his head as they both settled back in. “...How are you feeling?”

“You mean my head, eh?” Siv tapped his temple and quirked a smile up at Adrestin. “I feel… Heh. I feel fine, for once. More like myself. Which means that I’ll probably be a mess of anxiety sometime between now and a day or two over some stupid thing or another, but hey. I’d rather have that than… whatever the Council did to me.”

His last few words were quiet, and Adrestin snugged him a little closer. “...It was both wise and cruel of them, to have your mental block take on the form of your former Master.”

Siv shrugged. “I don’t… I don’t think it worked quite like how you think it did. It _was_ her, in some way. Whatever part of her they could commune with that still remains in the Force. She said that the Council had asked her to be the keeper of my mental block.”

Adrestin frowned and gazed down at his friend, expression soft. “That almost sounds worse, Sivin.”

“Heh. Yeah, probably. But it does seem to be on par with the rest of the shit the Council does, so I can’t say I’m even surprised. But I think they’re getting kind of desperate now, at this point.”

Adrestin raised an eyebrow, head cocked. “What do you mean?”

“Well...” Siv shifted in Adrestin’s arms, twisting so he could more easily look up at his friend. “Before you showed up, Ydrin had mentioned a lot of the same things you’d talked about before, when you were trying to get me to think of leverage with the Jedi Council.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. She tried to play off of the fame that they’ve built up around my image. ‘Everyone trusts you, you’re a hero, you can’t fail us now’, that kind of thing. But pretty much all I got from it is that the Jedi Council will do anything to prevent themselves from looking bad. And one of their star Jedi Masters getting friendly with Sith is _definitely_ something that would make them look bad.”

Adrestin smiled. “And there is your leverage, Siv.”

“Exactly.” He gestured vaguely into the air. “I’m just not sure what I can _do_ with it.”

“Hm. Well, what do you wish to do? What end result would you be aiming for?”

Siv pursed his lips in thought. “…I don’t think I’ve got a real clear idea, to be honest. I told you a while ago, that I wasn’t sure where I fit in with everything. Where _we_ fit in with everything. But now… Now I think the question is where the Jedi Order fits in. At least from my point of view.”

“Where they fit into your life?”

Siv nodded. “Yeah. I mean… I don’t want to stop being a Jedi just because the Council is horrible. There’s more to being a Jedi than the Council and the Order. Just like you don’t stop being a Sith because your Emperor is an idiot and your Dark Council is full of nimrods.”

Adrestin burst out laughing. “Point taken.”

Siv flashed him a brief smile. “The management always sucks wherever you go, eh? Jedi included.”

“Indeed.”

“But… I can’t let them keep walking all over me either, can I?”

Adrestin sobered and he shook his head. “I do not believe you will rid yourself of your anxiety over their acceptance while they still have such powerful control over you, no. But deciding what to do about it will be challenging, particularly if you wish to remain one of them. It is a dangerous balancing act to walk. They rely on your fear of rejection to keep you in line.”

Siv reached a hand out to grab Adrestin’s own, and he slowly traced his fingers over the scales. “That’s the thing, though. I… I think that fear is fading. You’ve… You’ve already given me a better home than I ever had with them. I’m… I’m loved and accepted _here,_ with you. Free of charge, no strings attached, no expectations to fulfill. If I can still be a Jedi and stay with you, I’d want for nothing.”

Adrestin smiled and gently squeezed Siv’s hand. “Then perhaps we should focus our options on anything that might potentially allow for that to happen. I believe it is possible. _‘If you have the will to walk, the way will open’,_ as they say.”

Siv grinned up at him. “I like that. Who’s ‘they’?”

Adrestin leaned forward to kiss the top of Siv’s head. “An old Sith adage. Our scholars do enjoy their pithy quips.”

“Heh. A lot like ours.”

A twinkle lit up Adrestin’s eyes. “Jedi and Sith have much more in common than they have differences, after all.”

“I think I’ve heard you say that once or twice already. I’d like to hear more about th–”

A tap at their door cut Sivin short, and he glanced up at Adrestin before they both said “come in” at the same time. The door slid open, and Erion floated forward to lean against the door frame.

Adrestin beamed. “Good morning, Eri.”

They merely shrugged, giving Adrestin a pointed look. <I see your Jedi is recovering well.>

“Indeed.” Adrestin’s gaze flicked down to Siv, and his smile grew a little wider. “Rest is always good for the spirit.”

<Hn.> Erion crossed their arms over their chest. <We still need to talk.>

Adrestin nodded and sat up, pulling Sivin upright along with him. “That we do. Siv, could you do me the favour of collecting Dom and Astele, and helping them get settled back on the ship? With Acerra and Glaucus coming to relieve our watch duty here, we should be prepared to leave almost as soon as they arrive. And I am sure Astele has seen to it that half of her things are strewn throughout the entire settlement by now.”

Siv nodded. “Sure thing. I’ll try to see if I can conscript Niam into helping load some of the heavier things so Dom doesn’t feel obligated to do any lifting.”

“Good idea. We will probably be on the ship as well, but if we are we’ll be in the back and out of your way.” Adrestin leaned to the side to place a kiss on Siv’s cheek before he got up and stretched. “Thank you, Siv.”

“No problem.”

Adrestin made his way over to where Eri was waiting and looped his arm through their own. “To the ship, then?”

<Preferably.>

Adrestin nodded and used his gentle grip on Eri’s arm to pull them along. As they left Niam’s house the pair greeted a handful of settlers in the streets, but kept to the side road as they walked to avoid most of the traffic. But after they bypassed the flow of carts and people Eri grew silent, their tension palpable even through their armor.

Adrestin tucked Eri closer as he walked, and kept his voice low even though the narrow dirt road was clear of people. “I know you believe that this will end up being one of our shouting matches, yet I do not think that will be the case.”

Erion’s sigh came out as more of a hiss. <I do not _want_ to fight, Belus. I do not have the energy for it. >

“Nor do I. So much has been happening all around us and between each member of our strange little party, I do not think I can take another issue that could divide us. I want to hear what you have to say, and I want you to hear my own words as well. Perhaps we could agree to keep it as close to that as possible?”

<I will try.>

Adrestin gave a nod of acknowledgment, and they both fell into silence once again. Ten more minutes of walking and they were already at the ship, and Adrestin brought down the boarding ramp with a flick of a wrist. “...Your quarters? I could get you out of your respirator and we could talk face to face.”

<I’d like that.> Eri let Adrestin guide them up the ramp and into the ship. <And out of this harness as well.>

“Your wish is my command.” Adrestin walked Eri through the common area and into the back corridor, coming to a stop in front of Eri’s door. It slid open with a wave of Eri’s good hand, and Adrestin waited until it had clicked shut behind them before turning to a control panel beside the threshold. He keyed in the familiar code that adjusted the atmosphere within Eri’s quarters to match the oxygen-rich mix that they were limited to breathing, and waited until the trio of lights at the top of the panel all turned green. “There we go.”

Eri nodded and floated over to a low couch on the far wall, wide enough that even Adrestin’s legs could stretch out comfortably in any direction. <Help me get this equipment off. And tell me what has happened with your Jedi since we left Brizx’t’s ship.>

“Of course.” Adrestin took a seat and leaned forward to begin releasing the respirator pack from Eri’s back and shoulders. “Sivin’s mental block has indeed been completely removed. He is back to his former self, complete with anxiety and guilt and his usual snark. Although I am happy to say that he appears to be getting a better handle on that anxiety and guilt. His trust in the Jedi Order is… falling away, to say the least. I do not believe he can ever go back to blind faith in them again.”

<So he has a modicum of intelligence, then. At least it is something to work with.>

Adrestin sighed and shook his head as he pulled the last of the hooks and hoses from the respirator, and began unbuckling the hoses that kept the rebreather fastened around Eri’s face. “You do not give him as much credit as he deserves. For one who has known very little other than the Order, and who fears being rejected and abandoned by them, he has made great strides in a very short length of time.”

<And you trust him with that.>

“I do.”

Erion snorted. <You truly believe that your Jedi will not betray us once again? Truly?>

Adrestin nodded. “I do, Eri. He has realized what his Jedi Council and his Order have done to him now, and is working on gathering the strength to stand up to them. Breaking that mental block was the first step, and it was a rather tremendous one.” He paused for a moment as he slipped the rebreather from Eri’s mouth. “...The mental block took the form of his old master, and he still did not hesitate to destroy it.”

<...I see.> Finally free of their respirator, Erion rubbed their jaw as they blinked up at Adrestin doubtfully. <A block is one thing. But standing up to his entire Jedi Council is another entirely.>

“And time will tell.”

<So you keep saying.> Eri huffed and crossed their arms. <But when will that be? He could put it off forever, and you would still be here waiting for him to make that choice.>

“And what choice would that be?” Adrestin reached behind Eri to unhook the latches that kept them firmly attached to their repulsor harness and tucked his hands underneath Eri’s armpits, pulling them out and easing them down onto the couch beside him.

Eri shifted their weight against the cushions so they could still look up at Adrestin. <The only choice he has left remaining to him. Between his Jedi Order and you.>

Adrestin shook his head. “I do not ask him to make that choice.”

Erion scoffed, a snarl curling up one corner of their lip. <Then you invite betrayal and disaster once again with open arms. He is a _Jedi,_ Belus. You are _Sith._ You cannot expect to befriend him without _one_ of you changing or abandoning allegiances. >

“The two are not diametrically opposite, Erion.” Adrestin curled his arm over the back of the couch, reaching around to run his thumb against the side of Eri’s neck. “Despite everything the Sith Code claims, despite the drivel that our own Council spouts, the Jedi and the Sith are not natural enemies. The Force that moves through each of us is one and the same, regardless of Dark or Light. At our core we are all just people, sentient beings trying to survive and thrive in a harsh and beautiful galaxy. We have more in common than we have differences. It is our history that keeps us apart.”

<And you cannot take that history so lightly.> Erion practically spat the words, but they didn’t pull away from Adrestin’s touch. <Thousands of years of bloody warfare, attempted genocide, and zealous religious persecution do not simply _vanish_ because you say _philosophy_ and _heart_ matter more.>

“I know, Eri.” Adrestin sighed and ran his hand from Eri’s neck to their shoulder. “It has never been my intent to belittle or dismiss that history. It is part of our heritage as well. But it is not the only thing that defines us. I have faith that we can learn from it, and grow beyond our mistakes of the past.”

<You have too much faith in people. You have too much faith in _him. >_

“Do I?”

 _< Yes!>_ Erion sat up suddenly, heedless that their balance was precarious without legs or a repulsor harness to support them. They leveled a finger up at Adrestin, eyes narrowed and flaring with Dark Side corruption. <Domthus was nearly _killed_ because of your Jedi! And now Dom is regulated to the same limitations that I have had to deal with _my entire life._ And _worse._ He did not _deserve_ that, Belus. And unless your Jedi makes good on this thought of _‘standing up to the Jedi Council’,_ I will _not_ forgive that. I will not trust him. And I will _never_ forget. >

Adrestin dropped his gaze to the floor, nodding slowly. “I understand. And I will not ask you to trust anyone you feel you cannot extend your faith to. But I _do_ ask that you trust _me._ I love him, Eri, but I also love you, and I love everyone on this ship. I will not allow anyone to harm you, or Astele, or Dom. I will be watching Sivin closely, more closely than I ever have, until he confronts his Council.”

<You’ve already allowed him to harm one you love.>

Adrestin flinched as though he had been hit. “...I know. And there is nothing I can say to that. I failed.” He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed hard. “I do not intend to fail you again.”

Erion’s own gaze dropped to the floor. <…I spoke too harshly.>

“You spoke the truth.”

Eri shook their head. <I also _know_ you, Belus. Better than almost anyone. You rarely fail. And when you do, you do so only once. You have _never_ failed the same thing twice. Not in the thirty-seven years I have known you. Never. >

Adrestin looked back over to gaze down at Eri fondly, if sadly. “I cannot allow myself that luxury, Erion. I fear few things, but losing your respect is high on that short list.”

<Never. I know you too well to ever lose respect for you.>

“Then please, Eri. Give me time. Give _Sivin_ time. He knows he has to confront this, he knows he must either stand up to his Council, abandon them entirely, or give in to them with finality. I know he will not give in to them again. Nor will he abandon them. All that is left is to hold his ground and speak his mind. I have no doubt he will do so, and soon. And I intend to have his back through every moment, to give him all the support and love he needs to ease that difficult moment.”

Eri raised a skeptical eyebrow. <And what then?>

“That is another choice he will have to make. I do not know what his options will be, but I do want to have one of those options be to stay here, with us.”

<And you want my blessing,> Eri said dryly, their other eyebrow coming up. <Is that it?>

“This ship is your home as well, Eri. I will not have you uncomfortable here.”

Eri heaved a sigh and slumped back against the couch. <He has lived here before, and I tolerated him. I can do so again.> They rested the side of their head against Adrestin’s rib cage. <But _only_ if he does indeed stand up to his Jedi Council. He has not proven himself yet. I have no reason yet to trust him. At all. Much less as far as I can throw him. >

“I understand.” Adrestin nodded and tucked his arm under Eri, scooping them carefully up as he shifted them sideways. He slid down to lie on his side and pressed Eri close against his chest. “Thank you, though. For being willing to give him that chance.”

<Do not thank me yet. I already gave him part of that chance, in waiting for his mental block to be removed. He has gone through with that, but...> Their face fell into a frown.

Adrestin ran a finger over the line of Erion’s jaw. “But what, Eri?”

They curled a little closer and pressed their face into Adrestin’s chest scales. <...I could have _lost_ you. You did not hear yourself scream while you were within his mind. You did not see yourself crumple. I did. > Their raspy voice turned muffled and quiet. <It frightened me. Don’t do that again.>

Adrestin smiled into Erion’s short unruly hair and wrapped his arms snugly around his friend, rubbing slow circles into the small of their back. “I won’t. I’m sorry I frightened you, Eri. I will make it up to you, if I can.”

<Hn. You better.> Erion squirmed in Adrestin’s embrace, their good arm going up to their opposite shoulder to twist at the bolts that held their artificial arm in place. <Get this off. It’s in the way.>

Adrestin let out a chuckle and complied, delicately turning and sliding the bolts away to slip the prosthetic from the remnants of Eri’s shoulder. “Better?”

Eri snorted. <Barely.> They tugged at the buckle of Adrestin’s belt and scowled up at him. <Get _this_ off. It’s in the way. >

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .......Eri is a lot clingier than they make themself out to be. The poor thing, they just want life to go Back To Normal, but that's not happening any time soon. Adrestin is Trying So Hard, though. Bless his heart, he tries. 
> 
> aaaaand every time I have a chapter like this, I have to remind myself that this is actually the reason I call this thing Opening Dialogue.  
> ...So much dialogue. So much. 
> 
> I've been wanting to sandwich in some sort of explanation for the Sith Tribunal, since it has zero canon legitimacy and just gets casually mentioned out of nowhere throughout the story. Essentially, I hate how the Sith Empire works in ~canon~ (honestly I hate that it's an "Empire" at all, copycat cookie-cutter ye olde original SW storyline much? Are we that unoriginal, official SW story group people? aaauuuuggghh) but anyway, yeah I hate almost everything I've ever heard about the Dark Council and decided they needed some sort of *actually competent* counterpart. So the Sith Tribunal was born. It's made up of 14 Sith Lords, including one that functions as their de facto leader that everyone else regards as their "real" leader instead of Vitiate. I mean. If I'm going to have my own AU fanfic I might as well go all out and customize EVERYTHING, right? Right. 
> 
> But anyway. Even with all the talking and dialogue and not-much-happening in this chapter, I'm also trying to cram a whole bunch of events into the next few chapters in just one in-story day, and it feels weird. It's taking me a little longer to write these next chapters, and I don't know if they'll end up being any good, but at least Stuff Is Happening.


	32. In Which Brizx't Receives A Request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erion is frustrated with their current situation, and Adrestin makes a suggestion that at first seems ridiculous, but might just have some merit. So Erion and Adrestin go to Brizx't with a strange request.

“Okay tank, a little more to the left. It’s going to be a tight fit.”

Siv grunted an affirmative and complied with Niam’s direction, using both the Force and his own muscle to nudge the heavy piece of equipment a few centimeters over as he pushed it up the loading ramp and into the cargo bay of the _Archon Red._

“Perfect. Straight on in.” The brilliant pink-red of Niam’s mohawk bobbed as he nodded more to himself than Siv, but it was the only thing Siv could see of him over the top of the massive metal contraption. “And… Alright. Set ‘er down, we’re good.”

Siv released his hold and eased his burden to the floor. “Two more left?”

Niam came around, rubbing grease and grime off of his hands. “Yep. Two big ones left, then there’s just some more little stuff. Looks like doodlebug’s making quick work of those, though.” He nodded over to where Astele had just shoved another crate against the wall, frowning in concentration as she adjusted it until its label could be seen from the front.

Dom was trailing along behind her, his hands on his hips and a pout concealed by his respirator. “I still don’t see why I can’t help. I’m doing so much better, and –”

“And if we let you help, sweetheart, the boss would _never_ let me hear the end of it,” Niam muttered, but a smile was on his face. “So just take it easy.”

“But I want to help! There’s still a lot to do.”

Siv chuckled and patted him on his shoulder as he made his way back down the ramp to grab another load. “But you are helping, Dom. You’re supervising.”

Dom rolled his eyes and huffed. “Yeah, thanks.”

Niam snickered. “Alright, alright. See that datapad?” He inclined his head deeper into the cargo hold, to the top of one of the first crates they’d loaded. “If you want something to do you can snag that and start taking inventory for the manifest. Deal?”

Dom visibly brightened. “Deal.” He pulled the datapad to him with the Force and began systematically threading his way through the hold, typing in the contents of each of the crates and boxes as he went.

Niam smiled and shook his head as he turned back to Siv to help him with their next load. “So do you know when you’re leaving?”

Siv nodded. “Yeah – Adrestin commed someone named Lord Acerra, and she said she’d be here with a Lord Glaucus and Nothus by tomorrow morning.”

“That’s fantastic. It’ll be great to see them again, it’s been ages.”

Dom paused what he was doing. “Will, uh… will it be okay to linger while they’re here? Is that… is that a good idea? Considering who we are...”

Niam threw a wink at Dom. “They’re all longtime friends of the boss, so nobody’s going to have anything to worry about with them. So no fretting, alright sweetheart? You’ll be fine.”

Dom flicked uncertain eyes back to Siv, who waved it off. “I’m not worried either, Dom. For once, heh.”

“Really?” Dom raised an eyebrow and shifted from foot to foot.

“Yeah. Adrestin didn’t seem concerned at all while he was on the comm with her, so I really think it’ll be fine.” His voice grew a little more brusque as he and Niam hefted their load into the cargo hold. “Besides, it’s not like _you’re_ a Jedi anymore. _You_ shouldn’t have anything to worry about, regardless.”

Dom flinched at Siv’s tone. “I guess I should… keep that in mind. Sorry.”

Siv’s hands came up as he and Niam set down their load. “I didn’t – I didn’t mean it like that, Dom. I mean – you just – you’ll have less worries now, in Sith space, since –” He blew out a breath and pinched the skin between his eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Dom sighed. The corners of his eyes crinkled up as though he were smiling, but there was no mirth in his eyes. “Yes, you did. It’s… It’s okay, though. I don’t regret saying what I did then. I know you don’t approve, but I won’t go back on it. I’m done with the Order.”

The tension building in Siv spread rapidly to everyone in the cargo bay. Astele stared at both Siv and Dom, ears back as she readied herself to jump between them if she needed to. Niam just shifted from one foot to another and looked away. But Siv just nodded stiffly at Dom. “I… I do understand your decision, Dom – and respect it, too, whether I have a moment of being all emotional and petty over it or not. I’m – look, I’m sorry it came out that way. I am. It was stupid. Especially after all we’ve been through just to get here. Can we just… finish loading the ship and forget about it?”

Dom slowly nodded as another sigh escaped. “Okay.”

All four of them turned back to their individual tasks, and the cargo bay lapsed into awkward silence as they finished loading the _Archon Red._

 

* * * * * *

 

<Apology accepted.>

Adrestin smirked as he ran his fingers over Eri’s forehead, brushing the sweat from their hair. “I did say I would make it up to you, if I could.”

<Mm. That you did.> Eri twisted around to press their body flush against Adrestin’s, and wrapped their arm around as much of his bulk as they could. <You’re good to me, Belus.>

“It is what I am here for.” Adrestin curled down to engulf Eri in his arms, pressing a string of kisses to their temple as his low-frequency vibration grew deeper around them. “Whatever you need.”

<Mm.> Eri pressed their face into Adrestin’s chest scales as they clung tightly to their friend, growing quiet so they could hear the beat of his heart and the slow inhale and exhale of his breath. Eri should have felt content, loose and relaxed. But a slow frustration began to mount, palpable in the Force and followed by the dim red hint of anger and the cloudy grey of sadness.

Adrestin frowned and pulled away just enough to see Eri’s face. “What is wrong?”

Eri huffed into his chest scales. <I want to be able to hold you like I used to. It is as if I am only half here, with only one arm to wrap around you. One _real_ arm. Astele and Dom did a fine job designing my replacement, but it will never feel like flesh and blood. I cannot hold you like I could before. And... >

Adrestin ran a finger over Eri’s jaw. “...And?”

Eri’s fingers curled into a fist against Adrestin’s chest. <And I want to be able to hold Dom. Like I have _never_ been able to. Because of this... Impediment. >

Adrestin slowly nodded and tucked Eri underneath his chin. “I understand the desire.”

<It is infuriating. Not being able to.>

He nodded again. “But it is, fortunately, something that can be corrected. Brizx’t is still here, Eri. You know they are fleshcrafters. Among all their other talents.”

<And render the hard work of Dom and Astele moot?> Erion snorted. <I think not.>

“They will understand, Eri. And there is no saying you cannot have both. Synthflesh is also an option, one that Brizx’t is _also_ adept at rendering. You could have a true flesh and bone arm, and synthflesh legs. Detachable. So you could still use your harness at will.”

Eri raised a sardonic eyebrow as they pushed away just enough to glare up at Adrestin in disbelief. <You do know how ridiculous you sound.>

“And I also know how plausible I sound,” Adrestin shot back, but his tone was playful. “It is feasible, Eri. Easily.”

Though the perpetual scowl never left Erion’s face, they sighed and relaxed back into Adrestin’s arms. <…I am once again learning that there is hardly ever a time when you are completely wrong, even when your points sound utterly absurd.>

Adrestin snickered. “Why, thank you. You are most magnanimous.”

<…Though this means I have to bear their presence again. I do not _like_ Brizx’t. >

“Eri, you don’t much like _anyone.”_

<Hn. Present company excepted.>

Adrestin smiled into the top of his friend’s head. “Of course.”

 

* * * * * *

 

“Man am I glad _that’s_ over with.” Astele flopped onto the seats around the dejarik table and let out a loud sigh. “That took _forever._ Where’s Lord Belus? I’m _starving,_ if I don’t get something to eat in like, five minutes, I swear I’m doing to die.”

Dom scooted in beside her, rolling his eyes. “You are so dramatic, Astele.”

“Yeah well, I burn through calories faster than any of you.” She reached a hand up to the side of Dom’s face and picked at the clasps holding his respirator. “Hey, want me to help get this off? You can practice breathing on your own without it. And you’re gonna need it off anyway if we’re eating something.”

“Doodlebug’s got the right idea.” Niam slipped into the kitchen and started opening cupboards. “I’ll find us some snacks. As for the boss...” He stretched out his senses in the Force, searching for the tell-tale signature of Adrestin’s presence. One eyebrow raised when he pinpointed both Adrestin and Eri’s location, and he smirked to himself as he pulled containers of nuts and dried fruits from the overhead pantry.

Siv joined Niam in the galley, putting a pan over a burner as he crumbled chocolate into it. He’d seen Adrestin do this at least a dozen times, he should be able to get it right… If only he could find the cinnamon.

He watched Niam out of the corner of his eye as he poured the contents of his discovered containers into a big bowl, chuckling as Niam grabbed a handful for himself before plopping the bowl down in the middle of the dejarik table. “Don’t eat too much all at once,” Siv called over, “We don’t want to spoil whatever lunch Adrestin might have planned.”

He got a murmur of affirmatives from all three, and he smiled to himself as he grabbed four mugs from the upper cupboard. He poured the contents of the pan into them slowly and topped them off with a healthy dollop of whipped cream. He followed with a sprinkle of cinnamon and chocolate shavings, then gathered two in each hand and made his way over to the dejarik table. He plunked the largest of the mugs in front of Dom and nudged it towards him. “Peace offering?”

Free of his respirator and attempting to breathe carefully, Dom smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing.” Siv handed another mug each to Astele and Niam, then took the last one for himself as he leaned against the wall across from the table. “Hopefully this won’t spoil our lunch either.”

Niam grinned over the rim of his mug. “Liquids don’t count.”

“Right.” Siv chuckled and sipped at his mug. “Where _is_ Adrestin, anyway?”

Niam shrugged with one shoulder and jerked a thumb in the direction of the crew quarters. “In the old goat’s room.”

Siv half turned but hesitated, his eyes going to the hall that led to his friend.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” Niam drawled, an eyebrow quirking up in amusement.

“...Oh.” Another twinge of guilt panged in Siv’s gut for being the cause of so much trouble. “...Are they still arguing?”

Niam barely managed to swallow laughter, and he shook his head. “Oh man, Jedi are great. So innocent. No, they’re – I guarantee you they’re not fighting. Per se. Just… uh. Working it out? Let ‘em be.”

Sivin fixed Niam with a flat stare. “I’m not _that_ naive, you know.”

Niam waved a hand in the air, residual chuckle spilling out. “Though judging from the surprise written all over your face, you didn’t know they kriffed on occasion.”

Dom nearly choked on his hot cocoa from where he and Astele had been sitting in silence. Niam smirked and raised his eyebrow at him, ever-present grin widening. “And I’ll hazard a guess that you didn’t either?”

Dom’s horns mottled between pale grey and deep purple in rapid succession, and he mutely shook his head.

“Well, I mean, I’m not surprised.” Niam shrugged. “The boss isn’t really the type to make a big to-do about it. No big deal, to him. If the old goat needs it, the old goat needs it. Besides, it’s not like either of them are monogamous.”

Even Siv’s marbled skin flushed an awkward shade of green. “Right, okay. Let’s file all that under the _‘things I didn’t need to know about Adrestin_ _ **or**_ _Erion, ever, but thank you for oversharing on your former Master’s personal life, I’m sure he appreciates it’_ file and call it a day, eh?”

Niam cackled at that, and Astele broke her silence to snicker as well. She couldn’t help but interject, “It’s not like it’s a secret, Siv.”

He rolled his eyes. “And it’s not like it affects _me,_ one way or the other. But isn’t it still a little _rude_ to talk about behind their backs?”

Niam grinned. “Okay, okay. Changing the subject.”

“ _Thank_ you.”

“So anyway, even though Lord Acerra and company are showing up tomorrow morning, that doesn’t mean that the lot of you have to leave right away.” Niam took a huge gulp of his hot cocoa, leaving a smear of whip cream on his nose. “You could hang out for a few days, meet the old gang, see the sights. Relax a little before you go on your way.”

Siv tilted his head. “‘The old gang’? Who would they be?”

Niam laughed. “Acerra, Glaucus, Nothus, and hey there’s a few more around that might tag along with them. Back when I was Adrestin’s apprentice, we traveled together kind of semi-frequently. Ever since I decided to help out at the colony I haven’t really seen much of anybody, so I’m dying to see them again. And I think you’d get along pretty well together.” He looked up and over beyond Siv’s shoulder, his grin widening. “Ain’t that right, boss?”

Adrestin and Erion had just emerged from the hall that led to the crew quarters, and Adrestin nodded as he came up beside Siv. He ran a hand through his head tendrils and kissed Siv’s temple before answering Niam. “Quite right. Acerra in particular is looking forward to meeting all of you. And it appears as though we will be staying a little longer than tomorrow morning. Eri and I need to discuss something with Brizx’t before they leave.”

Astele leaned forward, ears coming up. “Can I come this time? I _really, really_ want to meet them! They’re _so cool.”_ She turned to Dom and elbowed his arm. “Did you know they practice _mechu-deru?_ It’s so rare! I wish _I_ could.”

Adrestin chuckled. “That would be up to Brizx’t, I imagine. We’re headed to their ship right now, but we will return shortly. I can ask while we are there.”

Erion rolled their eyes. <Don’t encourage her. Brizx’t is hardly the type to entertain casual guests.>

Astele’s ears drooped just a little, and she blew a raspberry at the ceiling. “Figures.”

Eri sighed and shrugged their good shoulder. <We will inquire, but do not get your hopes up.>

She grinned. “Thanks Master Eri, you’re the best.”

<Hn.> Erion inclined their head at the hall to the boarding ramp and pulled lightly on Adrestin’s arm. <Let’s go. Get this over with before I change my mind.>

Adrestin leaned down to place a kiss on Siv’s forehead before looping his arm through Eri’s. “We’ll be back soon.”

Siv nodded and watched them go, raising one eyebrow in curiosity. All three of the others did the same, and once the hiss and click of the boarding ramp signaled Adrestin and Erion’s leave, Siv turned back to the common area and muttered what everyone else was thinking. “What’s _that_ about?”

 

* * * * * *

 

<I hate this ship.>

Adrestin nodded mutely in acknowledgment of Erion’s words, but didn’t reply.

<I hate this ship. I hate these damned droids, and I hate that Mokrha-forsaken Vratix. Why are they making us wait?>

Adrestin finally cracked the barest of smiles. He bent to gently brush a more inquisitive droid away from his feet, and shifted his posture to accommodate Eri a little closer to him in the dim green entry hall of Brizx’t’s ship. “Possibly because we came unannounced, without any previous notice, and are asking favours even before I have rendered payment for their last service. Possibly.”

Eri scowled behind their respirator as they floated close to Adrestin, trying to avoid the many droids swarming along the walls of the ship. <Shut up, Belus.>

“Shutting up.” Adrestin’s smile widened just a fraction before he carefully wiped the look off his face.

The uncomfortably familiar chitter of Brizx’t’s voice came echoing around the corner well before they ever saw Brizx’t themselves, only this time it was harsh and hoarse, filled with a buzz of agitation that hadn’t previously been there. “We do not _like_ unexpected _visitors,_ Lord _Erion,_ and it is our _pleasure_ and _whim_ to make you _wait_ as long as we _deem_ necessary.”

Brizx’t rounded the corner, arms and antennae both held back in the Vratix equivalent of crossing their arms in contempt. “I suffer _your_ presence _only_ because your _companion_ has the _wisdom_ to be _polite.”_ The flickering glitch of Brizx’t’s signature in the Force flashed red and hot, distorting their physical form for a fraction of a second. “You would do _well_ to _gain_ such wisdom, _Lord_ Erion. _Particularly_ since I _sense_ that it is for _your_ sake that _you_ and Lord _Belus_ are even _here.”_

Eri’s scowl deepened, but they dropped their gaze to the floor. <...Apologies.>

“And I also apologize for the unexpected visit.” Adrestin stepped forward to half conceal Erion with his bulk, and inclined his head to Brizx’t. “It is at my suggestion that Erion is even considering this, so I will be the one to inquire. I know you do not appreciate small talk so let me be direct – would you be willing to consider working your fleshcraft on Eri’s lost arm? And also perhaps integrating synthflesh legs as an alternative to their repulsor harness.”

Brizx’t’s compound gaze stayed fixed on Adrestin, but they flicked two fingers at Erion. “You make _strange_ requests, Lord _Belus._ Why? Are they not _functional_ as they _are_ now?”

Erion grudgingly obeyed the gesture and floated up to stand in front of Brizx’t. <I’m perfectly ‘functional’. But I want flesh and blood for an arm again.>

“We did _not_ ask _you.”_ But Brizx’t relented and twitched their head towards Erion, their hard gaze flicking up and down Eri’s body. “Come _here,_ come _here._ Let us _see_ what we would have to _work_ with.”

Bristling, Eri obeyed once again and inched closer to Brizx’t. The glow of their intense gaze flared a brighter red in the dim light of the ship, and they reached out a hooked hand to grasp Eri’s artificial wrist. Brizx’t lifted and flexed the metal arm, eyeing each seam and joint as a soft and thoughtful buzz rose up from their wing case. They paused only to run their compound gaze over Eri’s repulsor equipment, but quickly returned to the arm and where metal met flesh at Erion’s shoulder. “…We wish to _work_ with whoever _built_ these.”

Erion slipped their arm from Brizx’t’s hand the moment they felt a loosening of their grip. <…That could be arranged. There were two designers, one my apprentice and the other Lord Belus’s companion, a former Jedi.>

Adrestin let himself crack another small smile. “Erion’s apprentice would be honored to meet with you, Brizx’t. She has long been an admirer of your work. And as for my companion, Dom is easy to work with and very respectful. You would have no problem working with either of them.”

Brizx’t merely twitched. “We are _able_ to only _stomach_ so much of _Lightsiders,_ and we have had _quite_ our fill _already_ with your _other_ Jedi. When can we _meet_ the _apprentice?”_

Adrestin’s eyes flicked to Erion, who shrugged. <It can be this afternoon.>

“Then send for her, and we shall begin immediately.”

All to eager to leave, Erion nodded and turned to head for the exit ramp. But the click and buzz of Vratix laughter bubbling from a pull in the Force froze them in place.

“ _Stay,_ Lord _Erion,_ and have Lord _Belus_ retrieve your _apprentice._ We do _not_ have _Ubese_ parts lying _around_ to _work_ with, so we _will_ need _tissue_ samples from _you.”_

Slowly Erion turned back, their tension visible. <Tissue samples will hardly be enough to replace limbs, Lord Gnosia. This is not a simple procedure. It will be weeks before we can find donors or the recently dead to replace what has been lost.>

“ _If_ we were _ordinary_ fleshcrafters, then _yes._ You would be _correct._ But _we_ are _not_ ordinary _fleshcrafters.”_ The contempt was clear in Brizx’t’s voice, but it rose in satisfaction immediately. “We possess _rare_ technologies _capable_ of growing _that_ which we _seek._ _If_ we have _tissue_ samples to _work_ with.”

<Rare technologies…? You speak of… A Khommite cloning cylinder? You have one?>

Brizx’t’s head twitched upward in a Vratix gesture of pride. “We have _two_ _._ Stay. _Provide_ us the _samples_ we need. We _begin_ immediately.” They turned once again to Adrestin. _“Fetch_ us this _apprentice._ Her _input_ will be _valuable.”_

Adrestin inclined his head to Brizx’t before winking one set of eyes at Eri. “I’ll return shortly, then?”

Erion sighed. <Go. I’ll be here. Suffering their presence alone.>

Adrestin tried in vain to prevent his mouth from quirking up in a tiny smile. “That’s the spirit, Eri. I won’t be long.”

 

* * * * * *

 

Dom sighed once again, making Astele flick his horns with a finger in irritation. “Every time you do that, you move. Sit _still,_ and I’ll be done faster.” She huffed and focused on her work, tweaking the seal between Dom’s jaw and the respirator unit.

“Sorry, I just –”

Astele flicked another horn. “Just a _second,_ Dom.”

He fell into silence and waited patiently for another few minutes before she clipped his respirator back onto his face. “There. Better? How’s that feel?”

Dom wiggled his nose and his jaw, and his eyes crinkled up in a smile. “Way better. The seal is tighter but it’s more comfortable around my nose. Thanks, Astele.”

“Sure thing.” She started putting her tools back in the case they had come from, and she cast a glance back up at Dom. “So what are you sighing about this time?”

Dom shook his head. “Nothing, really. I just… wish Sivin could understand why I’m leaving the Jedi Order. I know he has just as many problems with them as I do, but it still seems to upset him that I won’t be a part of the Order anymore.”

Astele tucked her tool case back into the compartment where it belonged and climbed back up on to her bed to sit next to Dom. “I don’t get it either, but I think he’ll get over it. If he smartens up enough, he’ll leave too.” She shrugged. “But even if he doesn’t, I think he’s still smart enough to know that you’re leaving because it’s best for _you,_ and I think we all agree that that’s what’s most important here.”

Dom smiled and shook his head. “I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit, but I get what you’re saying. Despite everything that the Order has done to him, he still cares a lot about them.”

Astele grunted. “Then he’s being stupid. They don’t care about _him,_ so why should he give a ranat’s ass about them?”

“Sometimes things aren’t that simple, Astele.”

“Yeahhhh, whatever.”

The heavy steps of Adrestin outside Astele’s room gave away his presence before his soft tap on her door, and Astele waved open the door before he even got a third tap in. She beamed up at him. “Heya! Back from Brizx’t’s ship? How’d it go?”

Adrestin returned her smile. “It went about as well as expected. Eri is being ornery and obstinate and Brizx’t is being difficult and vague, so, the usual. You’ll be very interested in what they want to do, I think.”

Astele’s ears shot up. “Yeah? What’s going on?”

Adrestin’s smile widened, and he flicked one pair of eyes over to Dom as he spoke. “Eri is discovering that while cybernetics are extraordinarily useful, there is something also to be said about having limbs of flesh and blood. They are considering augmenting the prosthetic and repulsor harness that the two of you created for them with fleshcraft. Brizx’t is willing to do it, but they want to work with the designers of Eri’s existing equipment.”

Both Astele and Dom’s eyes went wide, but for entirely different reasons. Astele’s grin showed all her teeth, and she bounced from the bed to Adrestin’s side. _“Stars,_ this is the coolest thing that’s ever happened in my _life!_ Isn’t this amazing, Dom?”

Dom flashed her a weak smile that could barely be registered over his respirator. “That’s… heh, that’s great, Astele. That’s… I don’t suppose I could bow out of this one? I mean, I just helped Astele out, she’s the one who –”

“Oh come _on,_ Dom!” Astele jumped back over to the bed and grabbed one of his hands. “You worked just as hard as me on Eri’s stuff so don’t pretend you were just some boring assistant. We get to meet _Darth Gnosia,_ and even _work_ with them! Aren’t you excited?”

Dom managed to wrestle his hand from Astele’s grip and instead just patted her on the shoulder. “Y-yeah, more like. Terrified. I don’t –”

“ _Dom,_ come on –”

Adrestin stepped in to put a hand on Astele’s head. “It’s perfectly fine if Dom doesn’t want to meet Brizx’t, Astele. Their ship is cramped and awkward, and I have a feeling that if both of you went there would be precious little room to work around each other.”

Dom breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s way better. I wanted to help out in the infirmary for a little while before we had to go, anyway.”

“Of course, Dom.” Adrestin reached out a hand to brush over the tops of his horns, making them flush purple. “And while you are there I would recommend getting checked out one last time by the administrator. Would you take Niam with you? He still feels like he needs to keep an eye on you in penance for falling asleep while we were with Brizx’t before.”

Dom smiled. “Will do.”

“You’re gonna miss out though,” Astele pouted. “This is like, once in a lifetime kind of stuff, Dom. Brizx’t wants to work with us! With _me!_ This is _so cool!”_ She turned to Adrestin. “Can I tell people? Do you think I’ll get put on the Dark Council’s watch list?” Her gleefully mischievous grin grew wider with each word.

“One can only hope _not,”_ Adrestin muttered, but he was smiling. “We had best be going. Brizx’t doesn’t really like to be kept waiting.”

“Yes sir!” Astele once more bounced to Adrestin’s side, but stayed there only for a few seconds. She was out the door before Adrestin could even turn around.

He smiled and shook his head. “Never a dull moment.”

“Astele doesn’t know the meaning of ‘dull’.” Dom beamed up at Adrestin as he got up off the bed. “You’ll come get me before everyone is ready to leave, right?”

“Of course, Dom.” Adrestin ran his hand over Dom’s horns once more before turning to leave. “We will be a while yet. I imagine this will take many hours.”

“Much to Astele’s happiness and Eri’s chagrin, I imagine.” He walked with Adrestin through the ship and down the boarding ramp, not surprised to see no sign of Astele. “I just hope she doesn’t try getting on Brizx’t’s ship without you with her.”

Adrestin laughed. “She might, but if they allow her in alone that is at their own risk. But Eri is already on board, so she wouldn’t be unsupervised for long.”

They reached the bottom of the ramp, and Dom lingered for a moment longer. “Are you going to stay with Eri while they get worked on?”

“Only if they want me to. But we will see. I have a feeling I’ll be dismissed so they can recount their misery to me in great detail later without having to worry that I’ll call them out on their embellishments.”

Dom laughed. “That sounds like Erion.”

Adrestin nodded and gestured lightly in the direction of the settlement. “Go on, Dom. I’ll be sure to fetch you once we’re finished.”

Dom’s eyes crinkled up in a smile, and he gave Adrestin a casual two-fingered salute before turning and making his way through the dusty streets.

 

* * * * * *

 

On the other side of the planet, a little flare of light glinting off of metal was the only indication that a tiny starfighter had cut through the atmosphere of the arid ruddy world. It slipped down close to the surface, using neither lights nor scanners to make its descent. Its presence was masked even in the Force, though if anyone had been around to make visual contact they would have recognized the telltale design in green, silver, and yellow emblazoned on its wings. Careful to keep below the limits of ground-based scanners, it skimmed over rocky plain and dust-filled valley. Its aim was sure, its speed on the verge of reckless.


	33. In Which There Is A Confrontation With An Old Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is something brewing in the galaxy...  
> While Erion is on Brizx't's ship, Adrestin and Sivin meet to go for a walk. But their stroll is interrupted by an unexpected intruder.

The distinctive reddish glow of daylight had faded into the deep purple of evening, and even though the perpetual haze of dust obscured much of the stars, their light still shone scattered and diffused through the warm night air.

Siv walked slowly along the middle of the dusty street, stopping every now and again to watch the zig-zag flight of a four-winged dusker bat. The rest of the day had passed by since Adrestin had fetched Astele, and Siv assumed that he had indeed stayed on Brizx’t’s ship to assist in whatever way he could with Erion’s request. More than once Sivin had been tempted to make his way over to where the Vratix ship had landed, just to see what was going on. But the thought of having to go back inside and see Brizx’t and their eerie holocron droids once more made the temptation quickly fizzle out.

He had stopped by the infirmary to see what Dom was up to and had found him surrounded by a half dozen local children, all clamoring for their goodbyes and pestering for one last story about the strange life of a Jedi. He and Dom had jointly told the story of how they had come to meet Adrestin, Astele, and Erion, but once the kids started asking the inevitable myriads of questions Sivin had bowed out of the conversation and ducked outside to stroll the nighttime streets.

He made a direct line for the edge of town, avoiding any buildings with lights still on and any streets where he could hear voices and laughter. Quiet and solitude were what he was aiming for, and it didn’t take him long before he was following the low stone walls that edged the disused roads, bordering the fallow fields.

He was restless. Something was… off. Something strange in the Force made him feel uneasy, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what could be wrong. But even that wasn’t exactly accurate – there were _two_ distinct sensations he was feeling, one very familiar but carrying an ominous premonition along with it, and the other much more immediate but also far more deadly. He thought that if he could get away from the settlement that he could focus on the sensations of threat and maybe discover what they were, but even in the dusty desert several miles from town he couldn’t make anything of it. Reaching out with the Force, he brushed at the ephemeral feelings. All he got in return was the distinct sensation that he was missing something that should be right in front of his face.

He sighed and rubbed at his temples. “I wish I could stop jumping at shadows for just _one_ day,” he muttered to the still night air. “That’d be nice.”

As if in response to his thoughts, a particularly large and familiar shadow coalesced out of the dim hazy twilight. Adrestin approached quietly and favoured Siv with a warm smile. “I was wondering when I would find you. Your signature in the Force is behaving oddly.”

“Oh? I didn’t know you were looking.” Siv beamed up at him and laced his fingers through one scaly hand. “Dom told me you’d gone back to Brizx’t’s ship with Erion, so I figured you were staying there to help.”

Adrestin shook his head and gently tightened his grip on Siv’s hand, pulling him to his side and continuing along the path that Siv had been following. “Astele’s presence is tempering their foul mood. She is certainly giving Brizx’t a good run. They have a hard time keeping up with her energy and her cybernetics talk, and it is entertaining Eri to no end.” He grew a little more sober. “Though Erion is in a lot of pain. Fleshcrafting is no easy feat, nor is it kind to the body. They don’t want me to see them in such a position, but all it makes me do is fret.”

Siv cracked a small smile. “That’s probably why they don’t want you there, eh? Because even if you _were_ there, you’d be fussing over them.”

“This is very true. You know me well.” Adrestin fell silent for a moment as they walked, one pair of eyes fastening on Siv’s face. “…And I know _you,_ as well. Your presence tremors in the Force, Sivin. Is something wrong?”

He got a sigh in return. “I don’t… I don’t quite know. I feel something strange, or rather several strange things, and I’m not sure what to make of them. Reach out for a moment. Do you feel anything unusual in the Force?”

Adrestin drew to a stop and closed his eyes, concentrating on the ebb and flow of the Force around him. He stretched past the immediate to brush against the currents of power that expanded outwards from the planet itself, dissolving into the vast oceanic energy of the galaxy itself. He frowned, and as he focused the frown deepened. “There _is_ something strange. A disturbance near the heart of the galaxy. It feels like the rush and tumult of boiling water… Something has happened in the Core.”

Sivin nodded and opened his mouth to ask what Adrestin thought it was, but Adrestin held a hand up even while his eyes remained closed. “And there is something else. There is an unwelcome presence burrowing into the crust of this world. I cannot pinpoint where it is or what it is doing, but the Dark Side is roiling with waves of fury. Whatever it is, it has invaded a locus of Dark Side energy.”

Sivin blinked, alarmed. “Great. That sounds like whole kriffing freighters full of Not Good. I didn’t sense any of that, just a shadow of a threat.”

Adrestin opened his eyes and nodded, reaching over to brush a stray head tendril from Siv’s shoulder. “Mm. Probably because you are not attuned to the Dark Side of the Force.”

“I’ll take that as a good thing, then.”

Adrestin flashed him a grin. “Of course, my noble Jedi friend. If it were otherwise I would start to worry about you.” He ruffled Siv’s tendrils before taking his hand once again. “We should get back to the settlement and inform Niam. If there is something going on here, he needs to know.”

Sivin nodded in agreement, and the pair turned to make their way back to the colony.

 

* * * * * *

 

Her first impression was that this could only be typical of Sith colony worlds. The dust and grime wafted through the air and stung her eyes, preventing her from seeing more than a dozen yards in any direction. It was too warm and too dry, even in the supposed cool of the night, the parched ground cracking in spider-web patterns beneath her walking tentacles.

Zarinne blew out a breath in frustration, but picked up her pace to an even lope. She had landed far enough away from what her sensors told her was the Sith settlement, relying on distance and cloaking camouflage technology to conceal her starfighter’s presence from anyone who might be watching.

Leaving ship and sensors behind, she drew upon the Force to conceal her presence, wrapping it tightly around her like a shield. She now ran through the dessicated landscape guided only by her awareness of Sivin’s signature in the Force. When he wasn’t deliberately concealing himself he shined so brightly that it was like a lighthouse beacon, guiding her in and promising calm waters and safe harbours.

She snorted. Or at least, that was what it _had_ been like, before she had sensed the change in his presence, even from this distance. Before she had landed she wasn’t even sure he was still _alive,_ much less in one piece. But when she had focused in on his Force signature, he had shone just as vibrantly as the first day she had met him. He was very much alive. And he was _happy._ His presence was so close to a roiling shadow they were almost merging, a nexus of Dark Side power like a blot of ink against Siv’s Light, and he was _happy._

Her facial tentacles flattened back against her head. Sivin had abandoned his mission yet again in favour of cavorting with Sith Lords. Whether or not the giant Annoo-Dat Sith had shown him kindness in the past, it should not have distracted him from his mission. Especially not when the Jedi Council had supposedly _fixed_ him.

The tentacles around her lips curled back in a snarl. Her own mission instructed her not to engage the Sith, but the Council had not known that those Sith had once again manipulated Sivin into sharing in whatever twisted form of friendship they might be capable of. She owed it to both the Council and to Sivin himself to set this right.

She recognized the remnants of civilization appearing in the barren landscape – she had just crossed what was clearly an abandoned road, and the scattered stones just ahead must have once been a low boundary wall. Her speed increased even as her will grew more resolute.

These Sith would pay for keeping Sivin away from her and the Jedi Order, and they would pay dearly.

 

* * * * * *

 

Adrestin and Sivin walked hand in hand along the little-used road, content for the time being to let silence settle between them. Both were still mulling over what they had sensed in the Force, and only dimly aware of the quiet calls of night animals and the flitting of the occasional dusker bat overhead.

Sivin puzzled over the two different sensations that he had received earlier, wondering if they were both part of the same thing, or if his brain was just wreaking havoc with him in revenge over all his messing with it the past few days. Once again he reached out with the Force, trying to pinpoint anything about the ominous feelings of premonition that might help give him more clarity. What was it that had felt so familiar…?

He sensed her. Bright and beautiful and filled with righteous fury, and closing in on them fast.

Before he could alert Adrestin to his sudden realization, a cloud of dust surged down from a rise in a neighboring hill, and at its head was Zarinne. She rushed down to meet them, both lightsabers drawn but not ignited.

Adrestin stepped to the side, shielding Sivin with the bulk of his body as his clawed hands went for his own blades. His eyes blazed in the dim haze of the night, but he neither ignited his lightsabers nor even drew them from their places at his sides. “Zarinne. Skillful of you to land undetected and make your approach under such stealth.”

Her tentacles flattened in a sneer. “Do you expect me to be honored that you remembered my name, Sith?”

Adrestin rested his hands on the ends of his sabers. “Hardly. It is only through much fond recounting of you by Sivin that I manage to recall it.”

Her yellow eyes flicked from Adrestin to Sivin, who had cautiously stepped out from behind Adrestin. He placed a hand on Adrestin’s arm and gave her a weak smile. “Hey, Zar. Did the Council send you?”

“I have my orders.” She took a step closer to the side where Sivin was, but didn’t venture much nearer. “Come back home, Sivin. You don’t need all this. Whatever happened here, we can fix it. You’re so important to the Order, so important to everything that we try to accomplish. You’re _needed,_ Siv. Don’t abandon the Jedi Order. Come home.”

Siv’s tenuous smile faded. “I haven’t abandoned the Jedi, Zarinne. I could never do that. But I can’t just… I can’t leave here right now. Some things have to change before I can do that. It’s just… I don’t think anyone’s going to like it, but I can’t come back until they do. Not yet. Not if things stay like they are.”

Zarinne’s tentacles quivered in confusion, but promptly flattened back again. “Are you… Are you saying the Jedi Order needs to change for _you,_ Sivin? That is a great deal of arrogance, even for you.”

He shook his head. “No. Not just for me. For everyone. There is something seriously wrong at the root of things, and it’s causing us to lose sight of what makes the Jedi truly special to the galaxy. We’ve lost our way, Zarinne. We’re focused more on preserving the purity of the Light than on helping and saving the people whose lives _make up_ the living Force.”

Her eyes widened before suddenly narrowing. “And allow me to guess. It was a Sith who ‘helped’ you come to this… realization.”

Siv pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, that’s… that’s not what I’m saying, Zar. It has nothing to do with the Sith, it –”

“Like the nine Corellian _hells_ it doesn’t.” She jabbed the tip of a tentacle in Adrestin’s direction. “You would _never_ have spouted such bantha shit if you hadn’t met _him._ I don’t care how well-meaning he may be and I don’t care if he truly does consider you a friend, he’s _turning you against the Jedi Order,_ Sivin, and you can’t even see it! That’s _why_ the Council sent you here, to fix your own mistakes and _learn_ from them, but all you’ve done is fall into the same trap, intentional or not. Because of _him.”_

“Wait, Zarinne, listen –”

“He’s the root of all your problems, Sivin. Cut out the root, and the plant cannot bear fruit.” The tentacles holding her lightsabers came up, and her blades ignited as she lunged for Adrestin.

The _snap-hiss_ of Adrestin’s sabers lighting and clashing with Zarinne’s filled the night air, and Sivin felt himself get shoved back in the Force as Adrestin pushed him out of the way. He stumbled and fell, landing with a thump on the rocky ground.

Adrestin traded blows with Zarinne, easily pressing her backwards with the force of his strikes. Within seconds he had her overwhelmed, and he extinguished one of his blades and dropped it to the ground. With one swift motion he brought his hand up and clenched his fist into the air, and Zarinne was bodily lifted by the Force. The deep rumble of Dark Side power engulfed her, and her lightsabers flew from her tentacles. She gasped and went rigid, and as Adrestin dropped his hand she crumpled to the ground.

Sivin struggled back to his feet and dashed forward. “Wait, Adrestin, no don’t –”

Adrestin turned to Siv and raised an eyebrow, but Siv bypassed him and dropped to his knees beside Zarinne. “Please, no…”

Zarinne coughed and suddenly sat up, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She looked wide-eyed from Sivin to Adrestin and back again, mind trying to catch up with what had just happened. “I’m… I’m okay.”

Relief flooded over Sivin, and he lurched forward to wrap his arms around her shoulders. “Oh, thank the stars – I thought… I thought –”

“I told you I would not intentionally cause harm to those you care about,” Adrestin murmured, “even though they would not think twice about doing so themselves.” He crouched down beside the two of them, and inclined his head to Zarinne when Sivin finally pulled away. “Did I hurt you?”

Wide-eyed, Zarinne slowly shook her head. “N-no. I don’t – I don’t know _what_ you did, but it didn’t hurt.”

“I momentarily froze your muscles in place and simply knocked the wind out of you with the Force.” Adrestin extended a clawed hand. “Why did you come out here?”

She didn’t answer his question, but instead looked from the offered hand to Sivin. He simply nodded as he got to his feet. “It’s okay, he won’t hurt you.”

Frowning, she cautiously took Adrestin’s hand in one tentacle. “I’m trusting you on this, Sivin.”

Adrestin pulled her back to standing, then turned to use the Force to draw his own dropped lightsaber as well as Zarinne’s into his hand. He clipped all to his belt, raising one set of eyebrows at her. “I believe you would agree that it would be prudent of me to keep these, for the time being. Please answer my question, I dislike repeating myself. Why did you come out here, Zarinne?”

“Iseila Vansl of the Jedi Council requested that I investigate the situation here, and that if Sivin was alive, to bring him back to Coruscant.”

The lower pair of Adrestin’s eyes narrowed. “Those are your orders, Zarinne, but not the reason you are here. _Why did you come?”_

Zarinne flinched at the intensity of his tone and took a step back, a little closer to Sivin. “…I came because… because I was worried about Sivin. W-when the signal from his ship went dead, I feared the worst. I h-had to know if he was still alive.”

“You care for him a great deal.”

Slowly, she nodded. “He is my dearest friend.”

A tiny smile managed to find its way to one corner of Adrestin’s mouth. “A statement I can identify with. And as he is your dearest friend, naturally you care about his well-being. Yes?”

“...Yes...” Suspicious, she flicked her eyes between Sivin and Adrestin.

But Adrestin stepped forward and crouched down to meet her at eye level. “Surely you reached out with the Force to find him. And surely you sensed my presence as well. Yes?”

She hesitated before nodding, and a sudden realization made her jerk in surprise. “You knew I was coming.”

“I did.” He turned one hand out, palm up. “Reach out to me now, Zarinne, and tell me what you see in the Force. Tell me where my loyalties lie. Is there anything within me that would ever cause Sivin harm, or even think of having anything but his best interests at heart? Is there _any_ part of me that does not care deeply for him, that does not love him with that very passion and intensity that you Jedi insist on shying away from? Is there any part of me that would try to manipulate him, or use him to my own ends? I shield nothing from you. Tell me what you see.”

Eyes huge and mouth dry, Zarinne swallowed hard before taking a single step forward. She closed her eyes and raised a tentacle to focus herself, and reached out with the Force to look into Adrestin.

She felt the surge and pull of the Dark Side welling up within him, the deep recesses of darkness that permeated every corner of his being. She felt his strength drawn from pure will, anger and fear, felt the sheer raw power of passion. And she saw how deep his love for Sivin ran. She saw his devotion, his gentleness, his endless patience and resolute protection.

She retreated from his aura in the Force, shaken and pale. Her gaze dropped to the ground. “…You do more than love him. You treasure him more than the Force itself.”

Adrestin nodded, and Sivin couldn’t help but mottle a strange shade of green. He grinned in awkward and pleased embarrassment. “So really, Zar, I’m doing okay. Better than okay. I’m in good hands. So when I say I can’t come back yet, it’s really me talking. I’m not abandoning the Council and I’m not leaving the Jedi Order. There are some things I need to hash out with the Council, but I won’t do it in person. I won’t go back until they give me some answers to some things that never should have happened, and I won’t go back until they agree to stop treating me like a wayward kath hound whelp.”

Zarinne chewed on a chin tentacle and frowned. “I cannot go back to the Council empty-handed, Sivin.”

“You’re going to have to.”

“Sivin, you can’t just –”

But her words were cut short by a faint call in the distance. “-elus! _Lord Be_ _lus! Boss!”_

Sivin exchanged a glance with Adrestin in alarm. “Niam _never_ calls you by name.”

Adrestin nodded, and motioned to both Zarinne and Sivin as he turned towards the direction of Niam’s voice. “Follow.”

Sivin took one of Zarinne’s tentacles and trailed after him, tugging her along. It did not take them long to reach the edge of the settlement, and there they found Niam pacing the edge of the last street. He looked up and his eyes widened in surprise at seeing Zarinne. “Who the –”

“Explanation will have to wait,” Adrestin said sharply. “What is wrong?”

Niam stopped pacing and took a deep breath. His characteristic lopsided grin was gone. “We just received word – the Sith Empire has launched an all-out assault on Coruscant. Darth Angral has bombarded the planet and assassinated the Supreme Chancellor. Darth Malgus has razed the Jedi Temple. Half the Jedi Council is dead. The peace talks were a ruse, and now they'll be forcing a treaty at lightsaber point.”

Adrestin’s signature in the Force surged with anger, the Dark Side welling up and roiling around him like smoke and fire from a volcano. He snarled at the news. “Malgus is a fool and Angral a rabid kath hound. The peace talks would have been successful _without_ further bloodshed, why this?”

Niam had no answer to give him. He only shook his head slowly, eyes still fastened on Zarinne.

She was devastated. Quivering with grief, the dusky coral pink of her skin had faded to a sickly yellow. Sivin held her by her shoulders, tears streaming down his face at the news. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but choked on his own words before he managed to get them out. “What… what should we do? Adrestin… how…?”

Adrestin clenched his hands into fists. He wanted nothing more than to take Sivin in his arms and hold him as he vented his grief, but with Zarinne here his usual methods of comfort would not be welcome nor appropriate. He could only shake his head. “I do not know, Sivin. But I do know I will not sit on the sidelines while my own Emperor tears the galaxy to pieces.” He sighed, trying to focus on the immediate practicalities. “Zarinne. You are at the edge of Sith space. If you request asylum, I will grant it.”

She shook her head, tendrils quivering. “Do – do I really have a choice?”

“It is currently your best option. Though your movements will be monitored and somewhat restricted due to the nature of the circumstances, you will not be considered a prisoner. Until current events unfold and we know exactly what we are dealing with, it would be best for you to just lie low and wait.” He directed the rest of his words to Sivin and Niam as well. “I will make contact with everyone I know who can give me information. I know that the Sith Tribunal has one ally in the Dark Council. When Lord Acerra arrives, I will ask her to see what Darth Vowrawn can tell us.”

Niam laid a hand on Adrestin’s arm. “I’m pretty sure that something like this is going to delay when she can get here. I know she was scheduled to arrive some time in the morning, but that’s probably changed now.”

Adrestin nodded. “Yes, I imagine so. We will just have to wait until she arrives, whenever that might be. Send no transmissions inquiring about any of this, unless they are to contacts you can trust. I do not want to raise any red flags among any who may be aligned with the Dark Council and the Emperor.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Niam turned to go, but he paused. “…I haven’t told your little sweetheart yet. He’s asleep, I didn’t want to wake him up. Especially not for something that might break his little heart. He might have disavowed the Jedi Order, but in a lot of ways he’s still one of them.”

Adrestin nodded. “Thank you for your forethought, Niam. Let him sleep. I will tell him in the morning. Take care of anything you need to, then get some sleep yourself. I have a feeling tomorrow will be a long day.”

“Righto.” Niam gave Adrestin a half-hearted salute and made his way back to the settlement.

Adrestin turned back to Sivin and Zarinne, and allowed himself to take one of Siv’s shoulders in his hand. He gently squeezed, eyes searching Sivin’s teary face. “I am sorry, Sivin. This is a tragedy, and I am ashamed that it is under the name of Sith that it has happened. I will do everything I can for you. Whatever you need of me.”

Sivin managed a tiny smile through his tears, even as he held Zarinne close to his chest. “Thank you. It means the worlds, it does. But I think… I think Zar and I need to be alone together for a while.”

“Of course. Come, I’ll find you somewhere quiet.”

Sivin wordlessly followed after Adrestin, gently pulling Zarinne along with him. They returned to Niam’s house, and Adrestin ushered them into the back bedroom where Adrestin and Sivin had slept before. “I will ensure that no one disturbs you. Breakfast will be waiting for both of you in the morning, if you feel like eating.”

Again Sivin murmured thanks, and Adrestin risked a gentle kiss on his forehead before retreating out the door. He waited until it slid shut behind him, then turned to lean his head against the wall. He sighed, and sent out a mental call for his former apprentice.

Within moments Niam’s head popped around the corner. “Need something, boss?”

Adrestin nodded and came up beside him, taking him up in his arms and holding him tight. “What I _need,_ Darth Nitere, is a _vacation_ from all this nonsense.”

Niam’s grin snapped back into place, and he returned Adrestin’s embrace. “Never a dull moment in the Sith Empire. There’s always some idiot with delusions of grandeur, or an emperor attempting to manufacture himself some omniscient godhood and eternal glory.”

“I hate what the Sith are turning into sometimes. My patience wears thin.”

His grin widened. “Feeling’s mutual. But for now, how about you try to get some sleep like everybody else?”

“I don’t require full unconsciousness. I will be fine.”

Niam wriggled a little in Adrestin’s grip and flicked him on the nose. “Be a normal person for once, boss, and _go to bed._ Yeah?”

Adrestin rolled all four of his eyes. “All right, all right. I concede to your infinite wisdom and superior argument.” He released Niam and set him back on the floor, ruffling his unruly mohawk. “You should also get some rest.”

“Yes sir.” He saluted his former master once again, but a sudden banging on his front door made him turn. “Hey boss, were you expecting anyone else?”

“I was not.”

Both Sith made their way down the hall to the main entrance, and Niam pulled open the door. “It’s a little late, yeah?”

The colonist at the door shifted from foot to foot, her face haggard and pale. “I apologize Lord Nitere, but there is something you should know. There is a malevolent presence to the south and east, though not blessed by the power of the Force. It has broken into the mausoleum shrines. We sent three to investigate. They have returned.”

Niam blew out a breath. “It never ends, does it?”

The colonist’s face grew paler by the moment. “My Lord, there is something else.”

“What is it?”

“All three collapsed on the threshold to the crypts.” She took in a shaky breath. “They’re dead. They’re all dead.”


	34. In Which An Investigation Into A Break-In Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrestin and Niam prepare to go to investigate what has happened at the mausoleum shrines, with Sivin and Zarinne in tow.

 

Adrestin stared at the colonist, all four eyes narrowing. The Dark Side flared around him, wreathing him in deep shadows in the Force. “How did they die?”

The colonist looked blankly up at him, mouth opening and closing before she managed to stammer out, “I… I don’t know, m-my Lord. T-they just collapsed. Blood and foam w-were coming out of their m-mouths.”

His face darkened, but he took a step forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Breathe. What is your name?”

“Tallim, my Lord.”

“Tallim, I am going to need you to go back to the mausoleums and tell anyone else gathered there to stay out of the crypts. There is only one entrance. Have them guard that entrance, but no one is to make a move to go back in, not unless Darth Nitere or I give the order. Seal it if you have to. Understood?”

She nodded, eyes flicking over to include Niam in her affirmative. “Yes, my Lord.”

“I also need you inspect the bodies. Look for very thin needle-like projectiles embedded in their skin, around the neck and shoulder area. They would be hard to see, and would be able to penetrate directly through armor if they were wearing any. If you find them, do not touch them. Niam and I will be there shortly.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Go now.”

Tallim nodded once more before turning sharply on her heels and running back down the street.

Adrestin turned to Niam, but before he could say anything both Sivin and Zarinne came around the corner. One of Sivin’s arms was protectively wrapped around Zarinne’s shoulders, but his free hand held a comm unit. He held it out to Adrestin. “This was still in your room. It’s Dirae. She’s… really upset, Adrestin.”

He took it, face growing grim. “And I believe I know why.” His lower pair of eyes glanced over at Zarinne before he spoke into the communicator. “This is Belus. I believe you are calling because of your brother.”

Dirae’s watery voice filtered through the comm, sounding far away and hollow. “Indeed. I had a vision, a particularly vivid and urgent one, telling me that he had invaded Lord Nitere’s world and broken into the shrines there. I am already on my way. Darth Tarandus is with me, we will be there within a few hours. I could not send any communication earlier, because of… Well, I am sure you know already of what is happening on Coruscant.”

“I do.” Again Adrestin’s eyes flicked over to Zarinne, but she resolutely stared at the floor. Adrestin turned his attention back to the comm. “Three are already dead here, but I have ordered that the Sith at the mausoleum entrance guard it and not to go in. If Graz is down there, he will not be able to escape undetected.”

Dirae’s voice grew thin and taught. “Be careful, Lord Belus. Graz is angry, angrier than I have ever seen him before. Even to Sith he can be deadly. I do not wish for any more of Lord Nitere’s people to die.”

Niam chimed in then, his voice light and a smile still on his face, though it was strained. “Don’t worry mama, my people are survivors. We’ll be alright. See you soon.”

Even obscured as it was by the great distance, warmth in the Force flowed from Dirae’s voice. “If I shall see you again, Nitere, then this day is bittersweet indeed. May the Force free you.”

Niam’s smile widened just a little, and he returned the old Sith farewell. “Force free you, mama.” The comm clicked off, and Niam raised an eyebrow at Sivin before directing it to Adrestin. “So. Now what?”

“We grab your speeder and go interrupt Erion and Brizx’t, for one. Eri would never let me get away with refraining from informing them of something like this. I’m sure I will already get an earful when they hear about Coruscant, and I do not wish to compound the lecturing I’m already sure to receive.”

Niam nodded. “What about your sweetheart?”

“Let him sleep.”

“And them?” Niam jerked a thumb back towards Sivin and Zarinnne. “I like the tank and all, I do, but I’m not too thrilled with letting him and his trespassing girlfriend wander around my settlement unsupervised.”

Zarinne’s head jerked up at the comment, and her facial tentacles flattened back. “I am _not_ his girlfr–”

“This is not the time for bickering,” Adrestin snapped, holding up a hand to stay further retorts, “we need to move, and quickly. Siv, would you be okay with accompanying us to Brizx’t’s ship, and then to the mausoleum shrines? I do not want you to have a part in this confrontation, so you will be well away from the entrance.”

“Yeah, sure.” He gave Zarinne’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze and nodded at Adrestin. “I might actually be of some help, though. If it’s Graz, he might listen to me since I’m not Sith. You said before that he didn’t like Sith, so maybe hearing from a Jedi might help, eh?”

Adrestin shook his head and shoved open the door, gesturing for the three of them to follow. “No. This is not a diplomatic entreaty. Graz is beyond help.”

Alarmed, Siv jogged up to Adrestin’s side, keeping one hand threaded through one of Zarinne’s tentacles as she followed along. “Wait, Adrestin – we could talk him down, get him to come out without further bloodshed.”

“No, Sivin. He has already killed three of Niam’s people. He has never had any qualms about murdering Sith before, and I do not expect that to change now.”

Sivin scowled. “You never mentioned he was a _murderer_ before, you know,” he muttered. “Kind of an important detail.”

Adrestin sighed as he pushed open the door to the small hangar behind Niam’s house, and gestured at the speeder inside. “Sit down. We’ll talk about this later.”

Sivin and Zarinne obediently climbed into the back of the speeder, and Adrestin settled himself in the front passenger’s side as Niam took the driver’s seat. He revved it up, and within moments they were racing through the streets towards the outskirts where Brizx’t had landed their ship. Niam’s near-reckless driving had them at the foot of Brizx’t’s ship within mere minutes, and even before they had come to a complete stop Adrestin had vaulted over the side of the speeder and ran up the boarding ramp.

Niam put the speeder in park, but left it running. He draped an arm over the back of his seat and twisted around so he could see both Zarinne and Sivin, and gave them a half-hearted smile. “Sorry about interrupting your sleep, if you ever even got any. Once this is all sorted out I think everyone deserves about a week of nothing but rest, relaxation, and watching terrible holofilms.”

Sivin flashed him a weak smile. “Thanks, Niam. But I have a feeling that we’ll be leaving almost immediately after Lord Acerra and company get here.”

“Yeah, probably,” he nodded and winked at Zarinne. “But somewhere along the way you gotta make sure Miss Tentacles here has the opportunity to get a better idea of what Sith life is really like. She thinks we all would rather she was dead. I can feel the tension boiling off of her in waves.”

Sivin returned his hand to lightly grip one of Zarinne’s shoulders. “Niam’s right about giving you a better idea of what their lives are like. These are good people, Zar. It took me a while to see it too, but they’re not much different from lives in the Republic.”

She sighed and laid a tentacle over Siv’s hand. “I am sure you believe that, Sivin. But you are starting to sound like Domthus.”

He slipped his hand away, faint smile vanishing. “Yeah. Right before you advised me to abandon him.”

She flinched and dropped her gaze to the floor of the speeder. But Adrestin had just emerged from Brizx’t’s ship, and all conversation in the speeder stopped as he approached. He had Erion in tow, their natural arm free but the other bound tightly across their chest. Still confined to their repulsor harness, they were seething with Dark Side energy. It boiled around them like a sulfuric spring, bright and hot and nearly suffocating. They gestured sharply up at Adrestin, eyes narrowed and flaring with corruption. <Darth Gnosia will not abide my presence again, thanks to this latest intrusion. It is marginally fortunate that they had completed the grafting process before you arrived.>

Adrestin bore the rebuke with long-suffering silence as he hopped back into the speeder and held out his arms for Eri to climb into his lap.

<Who in the nine Corellian Hells –> They jabbed a finger at Zarinne. <This one tried to rescue your Jedi, once. Why is _she_ here? Belus – _answers. Now. > _

Once Erion was safely tucked into the speeder Adrestin gave a single nod to Niam, who revved the engine back up to speed and raced out into the wasteland stretching out before them. Adrestin sighed and gestured to the back seat where Zarinne sat, rigid and uneasy. “She was supposed to be a one-being rescue attempt for Sivin, yet again. She attempted to attack, and I stopped her. I already told you about the sacking of Coruscant, and what the fools on the Dark Council are doing. So it should go without saying that she is now here under asylum.”

<You should have just killed her and been done with it.> Eri huffed and scowled at the starlit landscape as it rushed by. <I will take twice as long to heal, now. To say nothing of my legs. If she decides to betray the kind of trust that you so readily put in Jedi these days, it will be difficult for me to defend you.>

Sivin winced at Eri’s casual suggestion of Zarinne's murder, and his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders. Zarinne looked from Sivin to Erion and back, not understanding Eri’s Ubese but still feeling the growing tension in Siv. But Adrestin merely shook his head. “There is no trust there, Eri. Not for Zarinne. And I am sorry that I took you away from your endeavour with Brizx’t too soon, but I also knew that if I hadn’t come to get you then you would have had my head on a plate for keeping you uninformed.”

<Hn.>

“And Astele is still there, working on the synthflesh over your new pair of legs. She and Brizx’t seem to work quite well together.”

Eri’s scowl deepened. < _Too_ well. Though watching the fleshcrafting process for my arm made her sick to her stomach. She still has unbounded enthusiasm for the cybernetics, though. Which Lord Gnosia takes full advantage of. Her talk even confounds them, on occasion.>

Adrestin chuckled. “Then perhaps she can teach _them_ something, even while she learns herself.”

<I am still not in any condition to fight. While you investigate the mausoleum shrines, I will monitor and guard your Jedi and his… _friend. >_ They practically spat the last word.

Choosing to ignore Erion's vicious tone, Sivin leaned forward and cocked his head. “So, what’s with these shrines anyway, eh? Not anything like the one where we met, are they?”

Adrestin couldn’t help but crack a smile. “No, Sivin. These are much more benign. The crypts beneath the mausoleums hold the ashes of the founders of this colony world. It has a long and rich history, and the colonists’ ancestors are held in high reverence. Not only for the establishment of settlements on this world, but also as the very source of their subspecies. Niam can trace his roots back to one of the founding mothers herself, a Pureblood Sith.”

Niam cast a quick glance back at Siv, flashing him a wink. “She took a Twi’lek-Human hybrid for a lover, and miracle of miracles, they had viable children. When they settled here they brought their extended families and friends with them, almost entirely some variant of Sith, Human, and Twi’lek. That was tens of thousands of years ago. We’re the result.”

Adrestin nodded. “The Dark Side of the Force has always been strong on this world. Niam’s ancestors also built a Sith temple here, over a deep fissure in the ground that extends halfway to the planet’s core. It is very near there that the mausoleum shrines have been kept.”

Sivin pulled Zarinne a little closer. “And that is where we’re going.”

“Mm.” Adrestin shrugged at Siv’s mounting trepidation. “You needn’t worry about the temple or the crypts themselves. Surely you can sense that while the Dark Side is very strong here, there is little in the way of malevolence. Dark does not automatically mean evil.”

Siv did manage a smile at that one. “So I’ve been learning.”

Zarinne curled her own tentacles tightly around her waist and hunched down into the seat of the speeder. “Malevolence and evil are conduits of the Dark Side, Sivin,” she muttered, “If they aren’t apparent now, it is only because they bide their time. Don’t trust the words of a Sith, no matter how well-meaning they are. They are blind to their own folly.”

Adrestin turned to regard Zarinne, his lower pair of eyes narrowing even as he raised his brows on the upper pair. “And you would know Sith philosophy and psychology so well, being so thoroughly trained to do nothing but destroy our relics, defile our sacred places, and murder our people? Fascinating.”

Zarinne sunk further back into her seat, her voice small and quiet, but still defiant. “They teach us enough.”

“Even as they teach to you abandon or murder your closest friends, should they come to disagree with your Jedi Council.” He rolled one pair of eyes. “‘Teach us enough’ indeed.”

Siv sighed. “Can both of you just drop this for now? We have better things to worry about anyway, eh?”

Adrestin nodded, one hand reaching back to pat Siv on the knee. “Right you are. But this will not be your fight or your dilemma, Sivin. Please let us handle Graz. I don’t want even the remote possibility that you will get hurt.”

Siv patted Adrestin’s hand. “I’ll try to stay out of the way. But I do want to know what’s _really_ going on. With Graz, and all. You haven’t told me the whole story.”

Adrestin shook his head. “You are correct, I have not. But it will have to wait a little while longer. We make our approach.”

He turned back to the front of the speeder, and all five of them looked up as they came over the last rise in the jagged hills.

Stretching out before them was a rough and barren valley, filled with sharp escarpments of rock, jutting out of the ground at low angles and interrupted only by thin archways of stone. The ground was cracked and broken, sometimes yawning open into huge crevices that swallowed the starlight and gave no indication of how far their depths stretched down below. The largest of these great fissures gaped wide and black before them, and hovering like a bird on a thermal was a Sith temple. It was kept aloft by no mechanism or repulsor field that Sivin or any of the others could sense, but aloft it stood, its only connection to the ground a narrow strip of bridge that led to a single immense door. All around it were the sharp spires and jagged lines of Sith architecture, harsh and raw even against the soft haze of dust and the darkness of the starry sky.

Sivin shuddered. The air was warm, but his blood ran cold. Even at this distance he could sense the Dark Side welling up from not just the temple itself, but from deep within the fissure over which it lay.

 _This world is dying,_ he thought to himself. _Not the quick death of a living being, but the slow and grinding death of a planet or a star. Something is killing it, and although it may take thousands more years, it will die. And it will take everything else still living here down with it._

But the speeder had slowed to a stop, less than a kilometer from the temple. Adrestin had gotten out and had opened the door on Sivin’s side, offering him a hand. “You feel it, don’t you?” he murmured.

Siv took his hand and let him help him out of the speeder. “…Yeah. What happened here?”

“No one knows, not for certain.” Adrestin’s voice was hushed, as though he didn’t wish for Niam or Erion to overhear. But they had gone ahead already, following a small stone path that led away from the Sith temple and instead ran along the edge of a smaller fissure. Zarinne stayed close by Sivin’s side, eyes round as she glanced repeatedly back in the direction of the temple.

Sivin couldn’t suppress a shudder and drew Zarinne a little closer to him, even as his grip on Adrestin’s hand tightened. “Why does Niam keep his people here, then? Don’t they know?”

Adrestin shook his head. “They know. And they intend on remaining here to comfort their dying world as best they know how. It is sacred to them, so they stay. Some do leave, though, since there are no laws demanding they remain. It is mostly the young and impetuous, although a few do return after some time away, as Niam did. But no, their race will ultimately die out when this planet finally gives up its weary ghost. Whether that be a hundred years from now or another ten thousand, I do not know.”

Sivin cast another glance back at the Sith temple. “That’s… really sad.”

“Yes.” Adrestin favoured him with a small smile. “I rarely say such things, but in this case, it is true: it is the way of the Force, Sivin. Whole planets die, entire species vanish. Sometimes it is a quick death, sometimes it is so slow that our brains cannot fully comprehend it. But death comes to all. Just as life blossoms and flourishes in its wake.” His smile grew a fraction wider. “For even in the ashes and debris of a broken planet lies the raw material for another world. One day this star will swallow this planet’s broken husk and swell into a red giant before finishing its own life in a spectacular supernova. And that great moment of destruction will birth new stars, and among those stars will be the dust of this place. Ready to be shaped into new planets, new moons, fresh for the genesis of new life.”

He took a slow breath in, and the Dark Side swelled around him as if in response to his words. “Life and death. Dark and Light. Entwined together in a dance that will last even beyond the aeons of the galaxy. The way of the Force.”

Sivin echoed Adrestin’s smile and gave his hand a light squeeze. “Adrestin Tsir, Dark Lord, Lord Lord, Sith philosopher and poet.”

Adrestin inclined his head to Sivin. “Thank you, I shall take that as a compliment. Though we should turn our attention back to our more immediate concerns.” He gestured just ahead of them, where Erion and Niam had already met up with a handful of Sith hovering around what appeared to be a doorway into one of the rocky escarpments. “We have arrived at the entrance to the shrines. I need to find Tallim to see what she has discovered so far. Erion will be watching over you while Niam and I assess what our situation is, so I will leave you here in the meantime.” He leaned forward to place a kiss on Siv’s forehead before releasing his hand. Siv waved a small temporary goodbye as Adrestin left to meet with the gathered Sith, smiling softly to himself.

Beside him, Zarinne only scowled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Niam's species and planet have only been featured once in canon sources, from the ten-page comic "Sith in the Shadows", in the 13th Star Wars Tales anthology. The comic itself only gave us the visuals of a dying planet, a Sith temple, a purple-skinned unnamed species, and the brief affirmation that the species shown followed the Sith. I really liked the look of the species in the comic and the planet that they lived on, and wished that they had gotten at least some semblance of decent worldbuilding, so I've taken the liberties of putting some flesh on that bare-bones outline. So Niam and his colony were born. :D


	35. In Which An Intruder Is Confronted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Dirae's brother Graz has intruded upon the sacred places of Niam's settlement, and it is up to our intrepid heroes to try and figure out a solution to this problem.

The air hung heavy over the entrance to the crypts, tension spreading through the small gathering of Sith that hung back several meters from the threshold to their sacred place. They all turned toward Adrestin as he approached, and he gave a nod to each one before zeroing in on where Niam stood with Tallim. They lingered beside three bodies, which had been tenderly placed on woolen cloaks along side each other a few meters away.

Tallim’s anxious face fastened on one pair of Adrestin’s eyes for a brief moment before faltering. She stared resolutely at the ground, wringing her hands. Niam patted her shoulder and indicated the bodies with a hand. “You were right, boss.”

Tallim nodded, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “T-there were indeed tiny needle-like bolts peppering the necks and shoulders of the three who returned from the crypts. B-but there is no other sign of trauma or injury.”

Adrestin raised one set of eyebrows. “There is something more. What is wrong?”

“We are a small colony, m-my Lord. We cannot suffer so much loss in so short a time… Not after t-the Jedi attack.” She still didn’t make eye contact as she spoke, though her gaze flicked very briefly over to Sivin.

Adrestin’s eyes narrowed, and he tilted her chin up with the Force. “Do not evade the question. Breathe. What is wrong?”

She seemed to crumple, and took a reflexive step back. “S-some thought they were strong enough to c-confront the intruder. They disobeyed your orders and entered the crypts. They have not y-yet returned. I’m sorry my lord – I tried to stop them, but –”

“It is not your fault, Tallim.” Adrestin’s face grew grim. “I fear they are already dead.”

But Tallim’s sidelong glance at Sivin had not gone unnoticed, and he came up to where they stood, Zarinne hovering closely behind him. “What’s going on, Adrestin?”

“You should stay back, away from the crypts, Siv.” Adrestin’s gaze went to Zarinne, and he gestured to Erion, who was conversing with the rest of the gathering of Sith. “Eri, would you mind keeping an eye on our Jedi guest while this plays out? I don’t want her getting hurt or unintentionally impeding our efforts while we deal with this incident.”

Sivin raised an eyebrow at Adrestin, but his attention was drawn to the three bodies of the Sith. “…What happened to them?”

“It is a fast-acting poison, Graz’s calling card.” Adrestin sighed. “I told you that he was not an innocent party. He has just… never killed so many at one time before. These incidents have been occasional and isolated, before now.”

Siv’s face fell. “Adrestin… why didn’t you mention that Graz was a murderer back on Bosthirda?”

Adrestin shook his head. “Graz is… complicated. He is, most of the time, a simple thief and graverobber. But if cornered or pushed while he is focused on razing and plundering that which he has no right to, he can turn vicious. He drops the casual, haphazard facade that makes him appear so charming, and he becomes deadly. It only happens when he is breaking and entering, just as is occurring here. But never before in such numbers.”

Zarinne scoffed from where she stood between Sivin and Erion. “And it has never occurred to you that it could be caused by his proximity to these so-called ‘sacred’ Sith relics? Such things are infused with the Dark Side of the Force. They can affect the mind and body in devastating and malevolent ways. That is precisely why BrightWatch exists, to eradicate such abominations.”

Eri raised their good hand to strike her, but Adrestin took a long step forward and grabbed their wrist before they could make contact. “The last thing we need right now is extraneous violence unrelated to the problem at hand, Eri.”

Siv once again curled an arm around Zarinne, this time forcing his larger form between her and Eri. “…There is truth to what Zar’s saying, though. Those artifacts _could_ be having an effect on Graz, eh?”

Adrestin shrugged. “It’s a remote possibility, though as far as I know Graz is not sensitive to the Force.”

“Some people have latent ability or sensitivity, though. Particularly those who already have Force-sensitives in their family. Graz might be one of them. You said it yourself a long time ago, that it took a long time for Dirae to come to the attention of the Jedi Order. It could just be a thing that runs in their family.”

Adrestin gave him a skeptical shake of his head. “I will not dismiss the possibility, but in any event he would never kill in the presence of his sister. And Lord Dirae is on her way.”

Niam spoke up. “In that case, we should probably wait to confront him until mama arrives. Otherwise we’re going to be looking at even more loss of life. Tallim’s right, in that our colony can’t really afford this much tragedy in so short a time.”

Siv cocked his head to one side. “Maybe Graz is killing your people because he is afraid? Could he believe that they are intending on killing _him,_ and maybe he’s thinking that he’s acting in self-defense?”

Adrestin frowned. “It’s… possible.”

“I could go in, try to talk to him instead. I’m not Sith, and he seemed to, uh, he seemed to like me well enough back on Bosthirda.”

“ _No.”_ Adrestin reached forward to grasp Siv’s shoulder in a gentle but firm grip. “I just recently thought I had lost you to the mental block the Jedi had forced into your mind, Sivin. I will not risk losing you to _Graz.”_

Erion scoffed, placing their hand on their hip as they hovered closer to Adrestin. <There is no need for such dramatics. Use Nitere’s holoprojector unit. Contact Lord Dirae again. Let us see how far away she is.>

“Give it to me.”

Niam dug the device out of his pocket, and handed the small disk to Adrestin. He keyed in Dirae’s frequency, and within moments the holoprojector whirred to life. The blue-tinted projection of Gallus’s face materialized over the disk, and he beamed up at Adrestin. _“Dar oska, Greeva_ Belus! Ya want _Greeava_ Dirae, I reckon.”

“I do indeed, Gallus. Thank you.”

The projection tilted and skimmed over the interior of a shuttle, and the sound of metal hitting metal filtered through as the transmitter on the other side of their communication was set down. Dirae’s face came into view, hair tendrils floating softly behind her as she sat down. “Lord Belus. There has been a short delay.”

Adrestin inclined his head in brief greeting. “How far out are you?”

“Not far. We have exited hyperspace around Nitere’s world, but there are other starships approaching. I know not if they are allies. Lord Tarandus has just hailed them, but I cannot give you a definitive answer on when we will be able to land.”

But even as she spoke a low rumbling from deep underground made the land all around them shake. Niam and Zarinne nearly lost their footing, and the hologram flickered for a brief moment. Niam’s face broke out in a vicious snarl, exposing long canines normally hidden by his cheerful smile. “Graz is destroying our ancestral shrines, trying to get at the sacred relics within.” He bolted from where he stood, making for the entrance to the crypt. But before he could cross the threshold, both Erion and Tallim had rushed to intercept him. They grabbed at his arms and shoulders, holding him back.

Adrestin turned back to Dirae’s hologram. “I must go. Please hurry, if you can.”

Dirae’s voice sounded faint and far away. “No one else must go into the crypts until I arrive. I and Tarandus are uniquely equipped to handle my brother, no one else need risk going in.”

Adrestin muttered something under his breath in his own tongue, but Dirae looked sharply up at him. “That is a direct order from a member of the Sith Tribunal, Lord Belus, and you will follow it.”

Adrestin’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded once. “Yes, my Lord.” the hologram flickered, and then went dark. He turned back to Niam, who was being slowly dragged back from the crypts by Erion and Tallim.

Niam hissed up at him. “I cannot just sit here and wait while Graz lays waste to our heritage and sacred pride. We must do _something.”_

But Adrestin’s eyes left Niam, and focused instead on the threshold behind him. There a single Sith had emerged, her steps staggering. She dropped to the ground, gasping and shuddering. Adrestin lurched forward and dropped to his knees beside her, followed quickly by everyone else behind him.

Adrestin scanned her writhing body, noting the presence of hair-thin needles piercing her throat and even her armor, straight through to her flesh. Her wildly erratic gaze managed to focus on Adrestin for one last moment before her eyes rolled back into her head. Blood and foam bubbled out of her mouth, and she breathed her last.

Adrestin stood, glowering with rage. His presence in the Dark Side had been roiling ever since they had left the settlement, but it had finally reach its boiling point and now it erupted all around him like a geyser of dark power. He turned to the crypt entrance.

But Erion and Sivin both dashed to his side, each taking an arm in their own.

<Do not risk Lord Dirae’s wrath, Belus!>

“Eri’s right, Adrestin,” Siv practically yelled, though the rumble of Adrestin’s power in the Force was largely inaudible. “Please, back off! We can wait!”

Several more of the Sith that had gathered there came running up to Sivin and Erion’s assistance, holding Adrestin back and trying to drag him away from the crypts. Adrestin bared his teeth at the archway that led down to the shrine, and from the black depths below came a faint but familiar voice.

“…Sivin? Sivin Ikalruq? Is that your voice I hear?”

Adrestin’s face darkened once more, but now there were half a dozen Sith holding onto him. Siv called back, trying to keep his voice as even as he could. “Yeah, it’s me. Graz?”

“Y-yeah.” His faint voice returned with a tremor. “C-could I talk to you? If I could talk to you, m-maybe you could talk some sense into these Sith, since you seem so friendly w-with them. _Please,_ Siv, they’re trying to _kill_ me.”

“Don’t go, Sivin.” Adrestin’s words were barely above a whisper, but the Dark Side seeped through, permeating every sound. “He will try to kill you.”

Siv gave Adrestin a single pleading glance in reply, and turned to duck through the threshold. He took several steps down into the dark, and the sound of the Sith struggling with Adrestin rapidly faded as he descended steep stairs. Around one corner he found a torch resting in an alcove, and he took it in hand as he went. Its light cast flickering shadows on the stone walls of the stairs, illuminating his narrow and winding descent. His steps slowed as he came to a split in the path. But from the left came the faint voice of Graz, still tremulous. “Here, Siv. Down here.”

He turned to follow, passing more alcoves with occasional torches, some of them lit and others long burnt out. A few times he had to hop a narrow fissure in the rock, and his pace slowed with trepidation. At one point he had to crawl over a pile of rubble scattered over the stairs, clearly the cause of the explosions they had felt on the surface. He turned a final corner only to find several bodies slumped over the steps ahead. They both lay in small pools of their own blood, trickling from their mouths as it dripped down the stairs. He flinched as he stepped over them, nerves starting to leave him.

But the steps leveled out and the narrow staircase opened up into a wide cavern, split open at the very end in a yawning chasm that could only have led upwards to the very fault that the Sith temple had been built upon. Along the rock walls were alcoves filled with stone sarcophagi, some of them smashed open by what could only have been Graz’s hammer. Siv’s eyes didn’t linger on the tombs, though. Instead they were drawn to the pinpoints of light at the far edge of the cavern, where it dropped away into the abyss far below. At the very edge of the precipice stood small pyramids of stone, each with a hollow in its center, illuminated by a soft red glow. Graz crouched in front of one of these alcoves, his hands brushing over an urn nestled inside, shaped like a coiled snake.

Sivin set his torch into an empty sconce along the wall and took a hesitant step forward. “…Graz? Are you okay?”

He turned to regard Siv, flashing him his trademark lopsided smile. “Oh I’m more than okay, Sivin. This is the find of a lifetime. And if you could talk the Sith upstairs into standing down so I could get out of here, I’ll be sure to share my fortune with you.” He tapped the top of the urn with a finger, his grin growing wider. “These have got to be over ten thousand years old. Even if they weren’t Sith, I’d still have people that would pay a planet’s weight in credits for shit like this.”

Sivin flicked his gaze around the cavern, tension mounting. “What about the bodies I just saw on the stairs?”

Graz merely shrugged. “They’re just Sith, what does it matter?”

“They’re not ‘just Sith’, Graz. They were people. Colonists. And now they’re dead.”

“Trying to kill _me,_ Siv.” He stood up and brushed dust from his leggings and skirts. “Don’t tell me they’ve turned you into one of them.”

Siv shook his head. “Hardly.”

But Graz narrowed his eyes, and took a slow step towards him. “Come to think of it, I haven’t heard anything about the great Commander Ikalruq of BrightWatch recently.” His steps moved sideways, pacing around Sivin. “What’s the matter, Siv, lost your touch? Being sweet on a Sith made you soft?”

Sivin made no reply and backed away and towards the dubious refuge of the stairs, his hand reflexively going for the lightsaber that no longer hung by his side.

Graz noticed the motion and laughed, the tendrils on his head writhing. “Oh, what now, will you try to kill me too?” He advanced another sidestep, putting himself nearly between Sivin and the staircase. His squirming hair tentacles settled to point in Sivin’s direction, long needle-like projections forming at their tips. “That hasn’t gone well for anyone today.”

Sivin took a slow, albeit shaky breath. “Easy, Graz. I’m not your enemy here. I came down because you sounded scared, and I thought I could help. Clearly that’s not the case, you seem to be doing just fine. I don’t want to hurt you, so just let me pass.” He tried to send soothing vibrations through the Force, gently nudging calm into Graz’s mind.

But Graz shook his head as if to clear it, and narrowed his eyes. “Save your Jedi tricks for the people who don’t have the heads-up about them.”

“I wasn’t trying to trick you, Graz –”

But the needles in his hair-tentacles slid further out, and his lopsided grin fixed on Sivin with predatory intent. “You’ll die just as easy as a Sith.”

Before Graz could lunge forward, a watery voice echoed from the stairs above them. “Graz. Stop.”

His eyes grew wide, and the needles in his hair-tentacles retreated as they fell limp. “You called my _sister?”_

The soft tap of descending footsteps sounded hollow in the wide expanse of the cavern, and Dirae emerged from the shadows of the staircase. A larger, horned form still lurked in the darkness behind her, waiting. She held up a hand, palm up. “Come here, Graz. This has gone on long enough.”

Graz paled upon seeing her, and took a step back towards Sivin. “Look, sis, it’s not what it seems. These Sith are trying to _kill me,_ they –”

“No. You knew your life was forfeit if you entered Sith space again. This ends. Now.” She inclined her head to Sivin. “Go, Jedi.”

Without a word, Siv beat a hasty retreat up the stairs. He slowed as he approached the horned form in the shadows, and gave the Zabrak a nervous smile. “I guess you’re Lord Tarandus, from Dirae’s transmission.”

He nodded once. “Indeed I am. I have met your companions before, though you were not with them at the time.” He stepped to the side to allow Sivin to pass. “But introductions are for later. I must assist Dirae. Return to the surface.”

Siv nodded in affirmation and jogged back up the stairs. Though he had left his torch behind, he managed to catch the faint bit of light from the early dawn, filtering down through the entrance above him. He followed it upwards, his feet flying. When he emerged through the archway, he was greeted by a sudden mass of orange scales, and was promptly picked up and smothered in Adrestin’s protective embrace. His forehead was peppered with gentle kisses, and Adrestin pulled away just enough so he could look down into Sivin’s face.

Sivin couldn’t help but flinch. His eyes blazed with Dark Side corruption, bright and furious but also filled with relief. His aura twisted and writhed with the power of the Dark Side, close and heavy around them both. Adrestin took the sides of his face in his hands, fingers curling through his head tendrils as he brushed his lips over Sivin’s. “Please, Siv. Don’t. Do anything that again.”

He gave Adrestin a weak but genuine smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be stupid, it just…”

“You felt like you were doing the right thing. I know.” Adrestin kissed his forehead one last time before releasing him, and as soon as he did so Zarinne pressed her way in by his side and took one of his hands in her tentacles. “You have always had a tendency to rush in to help when someone appeared in trouble. I see nothing has changed.”

He beamed at her. “Some things never will, eh?”

All of them turned to the threshold of the crypts when the soft sound of steps echoed up from within, and in moments Dirae emerged. Behind her Lord Tarandus also appeared, and in his arms was Graz’s limp form.

Siv’s eyes grew wide. “Is he –”

Dirae held up a hand to stave off the question. “He is not dead, dear Jedi. But he will be soon, if others catch wind that he has returned to Sith space.” She turned to Adrestin and Erion. “It is poor timing for this, considering what has just transpired in the galaxy, but I fear my family business can no longer be shunted off to the side. I must address Graz’s grievances and offenses directly, and that cannot be done while we remain here. I must leave Sith space for an indefinite time. The sooner I can resolve my familial issues, the sooner I will be able to return to assist the Tribunal in my proper capacity.”

Niam stepped to her side. “I’ll walk you back to your speeder. I wish you could stay longer.”

“I wish that as well, dear Nitere. But for now my visit must be short.” She looped her arm through his, and both Adrestin and Sivin fell in beside Tarandus. Zarinne trailed behind, with Erion beside her watching her every move.

Dirae’s fathomless gaze flicked back to Zarinne, and she raised a slender eyebrow at Adrestin. He shrugged. “We have had some complications of our own. That is Zarinne, and what you sense is correct. She is indeed a Jedi. She came here on behest of the Jedi Council to return Sivin to them, but the razing and sacking of Coruscant has thrown a hydrospanner in the Jedi’s plans. I have given her asylum in the meantime, until we can return her to safer environs.”

“These are strange times,” She murmured, voice like water over stones. “I cannot foresee much of the future. So much is in motion. As is the Sith Tribunal. It is not immune to these great tidal fluctuations in the galaxy, and some things must change if we are to remain afloat in such dangerous waters.”

Adrestin raised an eyebrow. “What is it you speak of?”

“When we came out of hyperspace, we were intercepted by Lord Acerra’s ship. She will have landed by now. We will return to the settlement, and there I will hold council with you all over some things that should be addressed before I leave Sith space.” She cast her gaze significantly over at Tarandus. “Both on a larger scale and on things… more personal.”

They arrived at the outcrop where both speeders had been parked, and there leaning against the hood of Dirae’s speeder was Gallus. He pulled his hands from his pockets and waved at the group as they approached. _“Dar oska!_ So many faces I haven’t seen in a while. _Greeva_ Belus, _Grehova_ Erion. An’ even Darth Nitere! ‘s been a while, _je?”_

Niam grinned and clapped Gallus on the back. “Heya, slick. Been way too long since we’ve hung out, I really should come visit you sometime. You still on Bosthirda with mama?”

“ _Je, je._ Why not come now?”

Niam’s perpetual smile faltered. “I can’t, not now. I need to get back to the mausoleum shrines and assess the damage Graz has done. And take care of our dead. It’s… been a rough night.”

Gallus gave his shoulder a squeeze, and flicked his compound gaze over to Graz’s limp form still in Tarandus’s arms. He shook his head and eyeballed the tall Zabrak. “Is he really worth all deh trouble?”

Tarandus raised an eyebrow in silent question to Dirae, but she merely sighed and climbed into her speeder. “We must return to the settlement.”

Tarandus placed his unconscious burden beside Dirae, and climbed into the driver’s seat. As he revved up the speeder, Niam came up and leaned a hand against Dirae’s door. “I know I have a lot of guests, but I also have a lot I’m responsible for taking care of here. Unless the Lords of the Tribunal require my presence, I’d like to stay here for a while. There’s a lot to do.”

Gallus came up beside him. “Need any help? It’d keep me outta deh way while deh bigwigs talk galactic affairs, _je?”_

Dirae smiled and nodded to both of them. “I see nothing wrong with either proposition. Keep your communicators active, and I will inform you if there is anything you need to know.”

“Sure thing mama.” Niam looped an arm through one of Gallus’s, and they backed away from the speeder so Dirae could leave.

As Tarandus eased the speeder by the rest of the gathering, Dirae gave Adrestin a nod. “See you soon. We meet in the upper chambers of Niam’s residence.”

Adrestin returned her nod, and she gave a warm smile to both Eri and Siv as the speeder passed by. All of them shielded their eyes from the dust kicked up as they left, and Adrestin climbed into the driver’s seat of the remaining speeder. He beckoned to the three remaining. “Shall we?”

Eri merely nodded and floated over the doors of the speeder to settle in the back. They eyed Sivin with a scowl, and sharply inclined their head to indicate the passenger’s seat in front of them. Sivin sighed and did as he had been silently commanded, noting the deliberate intent to keep him from staying by Zarinne’s side. Zarinne followed suit and climbed into the back next to Eri, her face carefully blank and unreadable.

Adrestin revved up the engine and kicked the speeder into a higher gear. The perpetual haze of dust and fog made their return a little slower than they had come, although that was due in part to the change of driver. Adrestin set the speeder to cruise and draped an arm over the passenger’s seat, letting his thumb brush over Sivin’s shoulder as he drove.

Siv rubbed at his sleepy eyes and leaned to the side to pillow his head on Adrestin’s arm, watching the sky turn slowly pink above him. “It’s already dawn. One day we’ll actually get to sleep, right?”

Adrestin allowed himself a chuckle. “Hopefully soon.”

“But probably not until after all the Lords from the Sith Tribunal have whatever meeting they want. But whatever they’re on about, it seems pretty serious. I mean, even aside from what happened on Coruscant. Any idea what all the fuss is about?”

“I’m not sure.” Adrestin shrugged the one shoulder that Siv wasn’t leaning againt. “Lord Dirae mentioned needing change in regards to the Sith Tribunal, which certainly caught my attention. I do not know what is afoot, but I am sure it is all because of the increasing boldness and insanity of the Sith Council and our _dear_ and _beloved_ Emperor.”

Sivin smiled and shook his head. “It never ceases to amaze me that you think so little of him.”

Even though he never took his eyes off of his driving, Adrestin raised a pair of eyebrows. “Is it truly that amazing? He is, to put it bluntly, phenomenally bad at his job. Even being a tyrannical despot is more straightforward than the experimentation with attempted godhood that seems to be Vitiate’s current obsession. Particularly when you take into account that he has left the Sith Council largely free to run amok with his own people. And _they_ are neither unified, nor qualified, to be the ruling body of even a nerf ranch, much less the entire Sith Empire.”

A strange choking sound from the back seat drew both Adrestin and Sivin’s attention, and Siv turned around in alarm. Adrestin peered in the rear-view mirror, eyebrows raised. But Zarinne had covered her face with an arm tentacle, trying in vain to hide the sudden parting of her facial tentacles that betrayed a smile.

Siv snickered. “You’ll find that there’s not too many Sith I associate with that actually like their current regime, Zar. Most of them think like Adrestin.”

She looked out the window to avoid his smile. “Your Sith Lady friend said one thing right,” she murmured, shaking her head. “These are strange times.”

Siv nodded and beamed at her before turning back around and relaxing again beside Adrestin.

Zarinne leaned back against the seat and watched the landscape slip by. Dawn had shed pink and orange hues across the hazy hills, growing brighter by the moment as the red sun rose. The light was caught by the occasional crystalline matrices that jutted from the ground and threw rainbows of colours into the fog, scintillating like dew. A morning chorus of slate frogs could be heard as they followed a trail along a dry river bed, announcing the presence of water seeps trickling along underground, invisible to the eye. She stretched the tip of one tentacle out of her window, catching the warm breeze as they passed. “…Strange times indeed.”


	36. In Which Sivin and Erion Have A Conversation, And Adrestin Receives An Offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone (except Niam, it seems) is gathering at Niam's house, and the present members of the Tribunal have some things they need to discuss with Adrestin.  
> Erion also has something they need to discuss, but only with Sivin.

Adrestin’s comm pinged just as he was pulling the speeder up next to Niam’s house, and all ears in the vehicle listened to the crackle of static before Acerra’s voice filtered through. “Lord Belus?”

He adjusted the frequency in a vain attempt to keep the perpetual haze of the dusty world from interfering with the electronics. “I’m here.”

“And I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’m not. I made my landing on the north side of the settlement, escorted by a fighter. The locals are… tense, if nothing else. Landing was one thing, but actually disembarking is proving difficult without the colony’s leadership giving them the okay to let us come out, Tribunal or no. Is Nitere with you?”

Though it was only an audio connection, Adrestin still shook his head. “No, Niam went back to the crypts to recover the bodies of the fallen Sith there. But I have some jurisdiction here, I can come.”

“Please do, I don’t want to ruffle any more fluffy pink mohawks than I have to.”

Adrestin chuckled as he turned off the comm, and he waved for his passengers to go ahead of him. “Go on inside, and I will go save our illustrious members of the Tribunal from Niam’s nervous settlers. Please let Dirae know where I went.”

Both Sivin and Erion nodded, and Siv hopped over the edge of the speeder and made his way around to get Zarinne’s door for her. Eri waved open the door to Niam’s house, trailing along behind them. Just before they went inside, Eri turned and called over their shoulder to Adrestin. <Do not be too long, Belus.>

“I will try.” He gave a light salute as he pulled away in the speeder, and Eri ducked inside. They came up beside Sivin in the receiving room, and their eyes crinkled up in a smile.

Dom and Astele were sitting with Dirae, one on either side as she flipped through a holo-logue, undoubtedly filled with pictures from her past. She looked up as the three of them entered the house and nodded to each of them in turn. “Dom and Astele have informed me of what has transpired since you left Bosthirda. I was admittedly shocked to see Dom in this condition, but he assures me it was an accident.” Her milky gaze fixed on Sivin, and her head tilted to one side as if to question the accuracy of the information she had been given.

Zarinne pressed a tentacle on Sivin’s arm as her gaze riveted on Dom. “What _did_ happen, Sivin?” She whispered, voice too quiet for those on the opposite end of the room to hear. “To Dom, I mean? He looks… horrifying. He fell, didn’t he?”

Erion shoved by both of them, scoffing loudly. <He did not _fall,_ Jedi, your precious friend _Ikalruq_ tried to _kill_ him. >

Dom’s eyes had widened upon seeing Zarinne, but now he stood up in alarm as Eri came over beside him. “That’s not what happened, though. It _was_ an accident.”

Eri shook their head and pointed a thin finger at Sivin. <Only because his aim was originally for Belus instead. Either way. Still not an accident.>

Dirae’s head tilted to Erion, her hair tentacles drifting and swaying in all directions. “Where _is_ Lord Belus?”

“He went to fetch Lord Acerra and company.” Sivin eased into a chair across from the others, gesturing for Zarinne to take the one next to him. “They’re having trouble getting the colonists to let them leave their ship.”

Dirae nodded. “I suppose this is just one too many visitors for them to handle. It is a small settlement, they are unused to even a single ship.”

“Yeah. And Brizx’t is still here, too.” Astele blew out a breath. “So now they have, what, five ships visiting them? Six? Where’d _you_ come from?” She jabbed a tiny finger at Zarinne. “Who invited another Jedi to the party? Getting a little crowded around here.”

Dirae rested a hand lightly on Astele’s shoulder. “I neglected to mention the Jedi when I updated you on what happened this morning. I am not entirely sure where she fits into this either.”

Erion remained hovering beside Dom, and they drummed their fingers on his shoulder in impatience. <Nobody knows. But speaking of what happened earlier. Where is Graz?>

Dirae extended one slender hand towards the door. “Lord Tarandus is settling Graz in a stasis cocoon on our ship, where he will remain, unconscious and immobilized, for the duration of our stay here. Lord Tarandus will return shortly.” She inclined her head towards the back rooms. “Of more pertinent interest to you, Erion – Astele has informed me that your new synthflesh replacements are awaiting you in your guestroom. We shall stay here to give you privacy if you wish to don them.”

Astele bounced in her seat, grin blossoming over her face. “I think you’re gonna love ‘em, Master Eri. I sure gave Brizx’t a run for their credits. They’re _awesome._ ”

Both of Erion’s eyebrows shot up behind their rebreather, and they slipped by the rest of the group and made their way towards the hall. They paused to pat Astele on her head as they passed, and her grin grew wider. “Enjoy!”

As Erion vanished down the hall, the front door opened once again. Tarandus ducked inside and nodded to everyone as he strode into the room and chose a far chair to slide down into.

“Your absence was unusually lengthy. How is my brother?”

Tarandus inclined his head to Dirae. “I believe he’ll be okay. He awoke from the sedatives just before I had intended on activating the stasis unit and had a bit of a tantrum. But I managed to calm him down. I told him what you intended, that we will bring him out of stasis once we are in hyperspace so that you can talk. He’s unconscious and in stasis now – willingly so, albeit temporarily.”

Dirae raised a thin eyebrow. “One wonders how you managed to persuade him to do so willingly, Lord Tarandus.”

Tarandus shifted in his seat, eyes flicking to the door to avoid her gaze. But before Dirae could press him for more information, Eri’s agitated voice filtered in from down the hall.

<Has Belus returned?>

Siv glanced down the hall, but didn’t see Eri. “They must still be back in their room. I guess they thought the door opening was Adrestin instead of Lord Tarandus.” He looked from Dirae to Astele and then to Dom, but the only response he got was an inclination of Dirae’s head. “Perhaps you should go inform Eri that Lord Belus has not returned yet,” She murmured.

Siv sighed internally. “Yeah, sure. Be right back.” He got up and made his way down the hall, perhaps a little more slowly than he normally would have. He turned the corner and tapped on the door to Eri’s guestroom, and it slid open at his touch. Even before he entered the room, he could feel Erion’s frustration leeching through the Force. He ducked his head inside. “Hey, Erion? Adrestin’s not –”

The door promptly slammed shut in his face, shoved with the Force. Siv braced himself and pushed it open again, just a few centimeters so he could be heard. “Adrestin’s not back yet, but he didn’t say how long he’d take, so uh… Can I help?”

_< No.>_

Sivin heaved another sigh. “…You sure? You sound pretty uh… distressed.”

He got no response, so he slid the door open another few centimeters to peek inside. “…Erion? Whoa, did you fall?”

They were on the floor, out of their repulsor harness and twisted to one side. Their good arm was pinned beneath them, the fleshcrafted one still bound tightly to their chest. Behind them lay a pair of what for all the worlds looked like a pair of dismembered legs, their bio-mechanical origins betrayed only by the thin wires and connecting bolt assembly at the root of where they would connect to an organic body. Erion looked up from where they sprawled and snarled at Sivin from the floor. <Get _out. >_

Siv’s hands came up in surrender. “Okay, I admit that you probably want me to be the _last_ person to help, but I’m the one that’s here right now, and I’m offering.” He took a step into the room and crouched down, offering Eri his hand. “If you tell me to leave again, though, I will. I’m not trying to harass you. I’m trying to help, eh?”

Erion practically _seethed_ in the Force, their aura bubbling over like a boiling hot spring. Ignoring Sivin’s outstretched hand, they tried furiously to roll themself as upright as they could, then used the Force to pull the nearest of the synthflesh legs towards them.

Sivin watched Erion struggle in silence for a few long uncomfortable moments, but finally they gave up. Eri glanced sharply up at Sivin and then jabbed a finger towards the back of the room. <Just… help me sit back on the bed.>

“’Course.” Sivin leaned forward to easily scoop Erion up and set them gingerly on the edge of the bed. He knelt down beside them and reached for the synthflesh legs, pulling them up to lean against the side of the bed just below where Erion was sitting. “…Is it a mechanical problem?”

Eri shook their head. <It is not mechanical. Everything is functioning properly.>

“Hm. Maybe physiological, then? Maybe the flesh and bone of your body needs to adapt to the metal and synthflesh of your new legs.”

<…Perhaps.>

Sivin cocked his head as he leaned forward to inspect the connecting bolt assembly at the base of one of the bio-mechanical legs. “Have you tried using a healing touch through the Force? It could help ease the adaption.”

Eri snorted. <I have no talent for _healing,_ Jedi. >

Siv frowned. “Oh. Well… I’m pretty good at it.”

Erion just glared at him from behind their respirator, and Siv tried not to flinch under their sharp gaze. “Do you want me to try, or am I just pushing your limits of tolerance? I’ll back off if you tell me to.”

Erion just sat there staring at him, and Sivin was just about to stand and leave when Erion huffed a short sigh. <I’m not stripping for you, Jedi. You’ll do it through my clothes.>

Sivin nodded, trying to keep from cringing at the hostility percolating through the Dark Side all around Erion. “Sure thing. It doesn’t have to be skin-to-skin contact, it just works better that way is all. This’ll do fine.”

<It better.> Erion eased themself down to lie back on the bed, their gaze flicking away from Sivin to stare at one of the walls.

After a moment of hesitation, Siv readjusted his position at the foot of the bed and slipped his hands around one of Erion’s hips. The blue glow of his healing power in the Force enveloped his fingers, and he could feel Erion tense under his touch. He tried to keep his breathing and his presence in the Force as even and steady as he knew how, and he pulled the first of the bio-mechanical legs up to sit flush with Erion’s body.

Eri reached inside their clothes with their good hand to connect the bolt assembly and press the connecting wires into their skin, where the wires would activate themselves and automatically seek out the proper nerve endings. Eri flopped back down to glare up at the ceiling once they were done, and Sivin leaned in a little closer to focus his healing power where it was needed. He worked his way slowly and carefully around the connecting points of Eri’s new leg, and just as slowly he could feel Erion relax into his gentle touch.

He bit his lip, and finally started talking. “Hey… Erion? I… I know I’ve done a lot of stupid shit, and a lot of that stupid shit happened not that long ago. So I know you have no reason to trust me this far, or even at all, for that matter.”

Eri said nothing, but their gaze flicked back down to where Sivin was sitting.

He shifted a little, uncomfortable under those sharp eyes. “So, I just wanted to say… thank you. For giving me a chance. Even just this little one.”

He could see Erion blink at him in surprise out of the corner of his eye, but still they said nothing. Sivin braced himself again and soldiered on. “Once we leave this world, I’m going to contact what’s left of the Jedi Council. Tell them where I stand. I… I doubt they’ll be in any position to have an upper hand to negotiate with me, considering that their reputation in the eyes of the Republic is going to plummet after what… after what happened on Coruscant.” He swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath so his voice wouldn’t waver and his eyes wouldn’t water. “…So they’re – they’re going to need all the morale boosting and good PR they can get. And I’m thinking… I’m thinking that a Jedi working on this side of the line, trying to find some common ground with the Sith? It might actually benefit their position. And yours – well the Sith Empire’s, I mean – now that we’ve signed a treaty.”

Erion tilted their head. <So you would propose to act as an intermediary. As if you were a sort of ambassador to the Sith.>

Siv’s eyes lit up. “Yes, exactly! That’s… that’s _it,_ Erion – that’s _exactly_ it.”

Sivin thought he could see Erion’s eyes crinkle up in the beginnings of a smile, but it vanished before he could call it anything other than a suspicion. Eri shook their head. <Trying to force yourself into an actual ambassadorial position from the Republic _and_ the Jedi Council to the Sith Empire requires a lot of political maneuvering, Ikalruq. >

“Yeah, I know.” Siv sighed and adjusted his hands on Eri’s hip, the glow of his Force healing growing a little brighter as he concentrated on the sinews and conduits of the second leg. “And before all this happened, it probably would have been impossible. It’s… it’s a tragedy, what happened on Coruscant, but… it’s also turning into an opportunity for me to do some good with it. At least in some small way.”

Erion eyed him curiously, a strange twinkle flashing briefly over their sunburst eyes. <Turning misfortune into leverage, leading to a potential triumph. You almost speak like a Sith. Almost.>

Sivin tried not to flinch and gave them a weak smile. “I almost think that was a compliment.”

Eri shrugged. <Don’t let it go to your head. You still reek of the Light.>

Siv’s smile grew, and he retreated his hands from Eri’s hips. “And I’ll definitely take _that_ as a compliment. I think you’re done. You want to try standing again?”

<In a moment. There are other things that must be said.>

Sivin couldn’t help but make his inward flinch from manifesting itself outwardly. “…Yeah. I guess now is as good a time as any, eh?”

Erion just arched an eyebrow at him. They looked him up and down, and Sivin could feel them press against his aura in the Force, almost as if asking permission – for what exactly, he didn’t know. He cautiously opened himself up to Erion’s signature in the Force, guarded and wary.

He could feel Erion searching within his core in the Force, pressing into subconscious corners he hated to acknowledge and probing into memories he’d rather not recall. He bore it with as much stoic serenity as he knew how, though he couldn’t help but flinch away when Eri touched on the loss of his Padawan and the loss of his BrightWatch team. But Eri retreated at every point where Sivin cringed, delicately avoiding Sivin’s sore points. It took a long time for Erion to withdraw from Sivin’s signature in the Force, and it took them another long moment to speak again. When they did, their voice was quiet and pensive. <Promise me, Jedi. That you will not hurt him.>

Sivin’s mouth was dry. He nodded mutely.

Erion’s eyes narrowed. <Speak the words. I will hold you to them.>

“I promise.” His voice was just barely above a whisper. “I promise I won’t hurt Adrestin. Not now, not anywhere in the future, not ever.”

<Promise me you will not hurt Dom. Or Astele.>

“I won’t, Erion. I won’t hurt them, and I won’t hurt you, either.”

Their eyes remained narrowed, and they reached forward with their good hand to tap him on the chest. They rested their finger there, staring up into Sivin’s eyes. <You walk a thin line, Ikalruq. Keep your promises. Either stand up to your Council or else leave them completely. If you do not do one or the other, you will have _no_ place here. I will not tolerate even the _shadow_ of a threat to come anywhere _near_ Belus or Astele or Dom again, not from the likes of _you._ If you are not capable of being the friend to Belus that he believes you are, if you can’t be the friend to him that _he_ is to _you,_ then you don’t deserve him. If you fail him one more time, I will personally _cut you out_ _of our lives_ and _throw you_ to the hssiss that he _saved_ you from. Am I _clear? >_

Sivin swallowed hard but he nodded, firmly and decisively. “As transparisteel.”

<Good.> Eri held out their hand, wordlessly implying they expected Siv to help them get vertical again.

Sivin obediently complied, steadying Eri as they got to their feet. They swayed a little in place, and Siv curled one arm around their shoulders to help balance them as they took their first hesitant step forward. They shifted their weight and tested their center of balance, keeping a hold of Sivin’s hand as they moved. After a few smooth steps, they released their grip on Siv’s hand and strode to the door with confidence. Waving it open, they moved into the hallway to go join the others again. But just beyond the door’s threshold they turned and eyed Sivin.

<…You surprise me, Jedi. I sense no deceit in you.>

Siv gave them a small smile. “I’m… I’m trying so hard, Erion. I want to make this work. I _will_ make this work. I might not really belong anywhere, but if I _could_ belong somewhere, I’d want it to be by Adrestin’s side. I’ll do whatever I can, whatever it takes, to prove that to you.”

<Token gestures of loyalty often ring hollow. I do not ask for ‘proof’, Jedi. Only action. Follow through with what you promise to do, and you take one step towards earning my trust.>

“That’s what I’m trying to do.”

<I know.> Erion took a few more steps into the hall, their voice so quiet Siv had to keep close to hear them. <…My legs function well enough. Your assistance was useful.>

Sivin’s smile grew just a little. “That was also almost a compliment.”

Erion snorted and shook their head, but they paused once more before continuing down the hall. <…Thank you. Ikalruq.>

Siv’s smile widened into a grin, and he followed after. “Any time, eh?”

<Hn. Do not speak of this to me again. It is awkward.>

“…Right.”

 

The rich baritone of Adrestin’s laugh reached their ears just before Sivin and Erion rounded the corner, and as they returned to the receiving room they were greeted by a number of new faces. Adrestin was seated on the couch nearest the hall, both arms draped over the back. On one side of him was a hulking green Twi’lek covered in white tattoos, and on the other was a short and voluptuous humanoid whose species Sivin couldn’t immediately identify. Both of them felt deep and dangerous in the Dark Side of the Force, and their presences mingled with that of both Tarandus and Dirae in a swirling dance that emphasized each person’s power. It was heady and dizzying, and the feeling made Sivin’s heart skip a beat.

Much less powerful in the Force but still immersed deeply in the Dark Side was Nothus, the Hutt that Sivin had seen briefly back on Bosthirda. He was behind the couch where Adrestin sat and had been leaning his heavy chin on his crossed arms, at least until he saw Eri and Siv emerge. “Oh hello! I think everyone’s here now, Lord Belus.”

Adrestin looked up to beam at the two of them, and waved them into the last small sofa across from him. “Apologies for taking so long to return. Apparently the locals have been a little overwhelmed with visitors, and they were uneasy about letting newcomers wander around unescorted with their leader elsewhere occupied. Even if they are members of the Tribunal.”

The humanoid whose species was unfamiliar to Sivin leaned forward and grinned over at him as she extended a hand. “I’ve been introduced to Dom and Zarinne, but I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting _you_ yet, Sivin Ikalruq. I’ve heard a lot about you, all of it charming. I’m Acerra, good to finally meet you.”

Sivin buried his unease over her aura in the Force and returned her smile. “Glad to hear that, heh. Nice to meet you too.” He took her hand and shook it, eyes widening a little at her firm grip as her smile grew toothy. Two slits beside her nostrils opened to expose a pair of thin proboscises before vanishing again from sight. Within his mind, Sivin could hear an echo of her greeting, and suddenly he felt cold all over. He knew of only one species with such features as hers, and they were ancient legends. The stuff of nightmares, used to threaten Jedi children who misbehaved. _Anzati._

Acerra seemed to notice Siv’s sudden tension, and the echo in his mind abruptly retreated. She released her grip on his hand before he could flinch away and leaned over to smack the Twi’lek lightly on his knee. “This is Glaucus. He’s quiet, but don’t let that fool you. Hang around him long enough and you’ll wonder how you ever survived without his weird sense of humor.”

Glaucus rolled his eyes at Acerra’s words, but inclined his head to Sivin. “Master Ikalruq.”

Sivin did the same and nodded in his direction, trying once again to ignore his trepidation over Acerra for the moment. “Lord Glaucus.”

“Pleasure.” He tilted his head to indicate the Hutt leaning on the couch behind him. “Nothus tells me you have already met.”

Nothus slithered out from behind the couch and made his way beside the arm of Sivin’s sofa, extending his own hand. “We have, but not fully. I do apologize for my gruff attitude back on Bosthirda, it was such a _trying_ trip. I didn’t even introduce myself properly! Allow me to do so now. Darth Nothus at your service, Master Jedi.”

Sivin grinned and took his hand, ironically relieved to deal with a more normal Sith. “Strange words to come out of a Sith’s mouth, eh? Sivin Ikalruq, at yours.”

Nothus’s wide mouth turned up at the corners. “Most Sith don’t know how to be _polite,_ though, don’t you know. And if I was raised to be anything, it was to be polite. It is an honor to meet you, Master Ikalruq.” He shook Siv’s hand with both of his own, apparently forgetting to let go. “Lord Glaucus was my master, back when I was an apprentice. It is with great honor that I still travel with him frequently, and Lord Acerra as well. They both hold the title of Warlord within the Sith Tribunal. I am not so ambitious, but I still have much I can learn from them.”

Acerra waved Nothus away from Sivin, smiling as she rolled her eyes. “Nothus could talk enough for all of us, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. _Stars,_ give him some space, Noth.”

He slid back to his former spot. “Sorry, sorry. I forget myself. It’s just not every day we get to chat with Jedi amicably, you know.”

Eri leaned back against the sofa beside Sivin. <If what Ikalruq has told me is true, that may change soon enough.> They flicked their gaze over to Sivin, one eyebrow raising.

Adrestin cocked his head to one side. “And what’s that, Siv?”

Siv looked from Eri to Adrestin and back again, confusion mounting. “Well, I mean, nothing’s set in stone yet, but uhh… I think Erion’s referring to what I’ll try to talk to the Jedi Council about when I, um. When I discuss my position with them. I was thinking some kind of ambassadorial thing, if they’ll let me.” He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with all eyes staring at him. “Is that really what we should be talking about though? I thought all of you Tribunal types had some important stuff you wanted to cover with Adrestin.”

Dirae chuckled from her spot between Astele and Dom. “Indeed we do, Sivin. Specifically, Lord Tarandus has something to ask of him.”

Everyone’s attention shifted from Sivin to Tarandus, who nodded in thanks to Dirae before he leaned forward in his chair and locked eyes with one pair of Adrestin’s. “The galaxy is in great turmoil right now, and we can expect many new changes and great shifts in the delicate balance of power in the near future. Not just between Republic and Empire, Jedi and Sith, but within each of our establishments and among the lesser ones as well.” He took a slow breath, as though he had mentally prepared a speech ahead of time. “… It is among all of this great change that I must make a great change of my own. I have… personal events in my life that are pulling me away from my duties and honors as part of the Sith Tribunal. And with all of the changes that will be coming to the Tribunal itself in the very near future, I do not believe that I am capable of adequately fulfilling my responsibilities there. It is my belief that I gained my position because of my relationship with my brother Vialis, and my enthusiastic support while the Tribunal was still getting its feet under it. Such was adequate at the time, but there are others far more deserving of my position, far more powerful in the Force and richer in wisdom. And it is with this in mind that I request for you, Lord Belus, to serve in my vacated place on the Tribunal. I would be greatly honored if you would accept.”

All four of Adrestin’s eyes went wide, and he flicked one pair of them over to Dirae in silent question. She nodded. “I suggested that Tarandus nominate you for the position. You are by far the only choice I would approve so strongly of. Truthfully, Lord Belus, you should have been on the Tribunal decades ago. I know it would pull time away from your libraries and books, but current events have already drawn you out of the Fortress of An-Drend. There is a time and a place for study, but right now the galaxy needs action. Your people need you, Adrestin. The Sith need you. Gaining the seat would need to be ratified before the entire Tribunal before becoming official, but your acceptance or denial is what we need now.”

Slowly, Adrestin nodded in acknowledgment of her words. “…This is a life-changing decision, Lord Dirae. Lord Tarandus. I will… I will need a moment to think. Please excuse me for a short while?”

Both Dirae and Tarandus nodded, and Dirae leaned forward to pat his hand. “Of course. We will wait for your return.”

Adrestin stood and made for the door, stopping beside Sivin and Erion to grasp each of their hands warmly before stepping over the threshold. Erion rose to join him, but Adrestin shook his head. “This is one decision I must make entirely on my own, Eri. Though I will need your advice and support more than ever once I have made it.”

Eri nodded and sat back down, and Adrestin slipped through the door.

Beside Erion, Sivin’s mind reeled. Adrestin could be part of the _Sith Tribunal_ before the day was out. He wasn’t even entirely sure what that meant, other than more power and responsibility within the mysterious shadow government that the Sith Tribunal controlled. It filled him with anxious apprehension, more than a little fear, and just a tiny bit of hope. It might… it might be that if he was just that more closely connected with a part of the Sith government, he could have just that much more leverage with the Jedi Council. If he truly was going to go for this ambassadorial thing, having connections that high up would be vital.

He shook his head to clear it. But the most important things first. Did Adrestin even _want_ such a position? He’d never really mentioned it being a desire of his, although admittedly they hadn’t really touched much on hopes and dreams for the future. Not yet, anyway. And… and what if it _was_ a desire of his? Having that much more power had the potential to change things about Adrestin that Sivin didn’t really want to have to think about. Adrestin was already neck-deep in the Dark Side, so immersed in it that it grew visible and audible when he channeled its power. And just from being in the room with the rest of these members of the Tribunal was almost overwhelming. Each and every one of them seethed and roiled with the power of the Dark Side, and each one seemed to feed off of the presence of the others. They were connected, in some way. Their power was greater than the sum of their parts, and even just having a mere handful of them present at the same time was practically overwhelming to Sivin’s senses in the Force. If just four of them could do that, what could _all_ of them be like together? He shivered. The thought of Adrestin having access to great reserves of such visceral potency was… terrifying.

Beside him, Erion watched the Jedi grapple with his thoughts. They couldn’t read his mind, but they could feel his apprehension. They reached a hand up to tap Sivin on his elbow. <Belus knows what he is doing, Jedi. Do not worry over his decision. It is not your choice to make.>

Sivin flashed them a weak smile, but couldn’t help shake his head. “I know, but I can’t help but worry. It’s what I do best, eh?”

<Hn.> Eri leaned back once again, eyes still on Sivin.

The door slid open once again, and Adrestin stepped back into the room. He made his way back to stand in front of Dirae and Tarandus, and took one of each of their hands. “Thank you for this opportunity, Darth Dirae. Darth Tarandus. My old master would have been proud to see what you have helped form the Sith Tribunal into becoming. It was his dream to see the Tribunal grow into something that could sustain and unite the worlds and cultures of the Sith, and I am proud to say that you have made great strides in seeing his dream become reality. I do not yet know what part I might play in this next great act that is currently unfolding in the galaxy around us, but I am honored that you would deem me worthy to carry on what part of his legacy I still hold.”

He gently squeezed their hands, and a slow smile spread over his face. “It is with great pride that I accept.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adrestin's master, Darth Scadox, was one of the founding members of the Sith Tribunal.


	37. In Which Zarinne Engages In Some Dialogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrestin announces his decision to the members of the Sith Tribunal that are present, and a short round of conversation takes place between them. But Zarinne has remained silent for too long, and she feels the need to speak up.

Although he could not say he was surprised at Adrestin’s response, Sivin’s heart felt as though it had sunk to the bottom of the deepest oceans of Mon Cala. The satisfaction and pride in Adrestin’s voice as he accepted the offer had been unmistakable, and even now his smile was full of teeth as he took his seat again between Acerra and Glaucus. Sivin hugged his arms close around him and sank a little lower in his own seat, marveling at his trepidation. He should be happy for his friend, after all. It was, apparently, a great opportunity and a well-deserved honor, although he couldn’t say entirely for certain. He barely knew anything about the Tribunal or its members.

Beside him, Erion nudged him with their elbow. <Do not say anything yet, Ikalruq,> they murmured, <If you have concerns, ask him in private.>

Sivin mutely nodded. He had no desire to draw the attention of any of these other Sith, anyway. Instead he tried to focus on the short round of congratulations they were giving Adrestin.

Acerra clapped Adrestin on the shoulder and grinned wide, her proboscises flicking momentarily out of her cheek pockets. “Truthfully, you should have been on the Tribunal from the start. Lord Scadox had wanted you to take his place.”

Adrestin’s smile faded but did not vanish completely. “I am aware. My old master often spoke to me of what would happen once he had passed on, but… I was always of two minds about the matter.” His gaze flicked briefly over to Sivin, and one pair of eyes held his gaze while the other pair focused back on Acerra. “I admit I have long desired this. I have felt it to be my rightful place among the Sith, a position that reflects my true power and authority. And yet…”

Glaucus leaned back in his chair, tossing his _lekku_ over the back of the couch as he propped his feet up on the low table in front of him. “Yet getting you away from your books is like pulling the ears off a Gundark.”

Adrestin chuckled. “Indeed. I do like having much time to myself to study. Privacy and quiet are two things I have long valued.” His gaze widened to take in not only Sivin but also Erion, Astele, and Dom as well. “And I value above all the time that I spend with those dearest to me. I feared that becoming a member of the Tribunal would cause such things to evaporate.”

Acerra snorted and rolled her eyes. “You should have known better than that, Bel. Your private life remains your own. Did you forget about Lord Aevitas and Lord Khorr? And Lord Musca as well. All three practically embody the definition of ‘reclusive’, yet they are all on the Tribunal. Founding members, in fact. The very same could be said of Lord Meridian himself, and he’s the entire reason the Tribunal could even get off the ground in the first place.”

Adrestin merely shrugged. “Aevitas, Musca, and Khorr are all oracles, Acerra. Seers thrive upon solitude, one could even say that their power _depends_ on it. And I am far from being an oracle.”

Acerra laughed. “No shit.” She gestured to Erion, though her eyes stayed on Adrestin. “And if family time is something you’re still worried about getting pushed to the sidelines, there are plenty of members that have their own. You’re not alone in that regard.”

Dirae nodded from her place between Astele and Dom. “I myself have mine, troublesome as they are. And a life with my Gallus and Lord Noct, as well. The Tribunal is most accommodating. That is why there are fourteen to advise and counsel the Imperator, and carry out the Imperium’s dictates.” She inclined her head to Nothus. “And the Houses of Meridian are also there to lend their aid. You have many resources and much power at your disposal now, that was not available to you before.”

Adrestin beamed at her, but before he could respond Zarinne stood up abruptly and crossed two of her tentacles over her chest. “I’ve heard just about all that I can take about Sith ‘family’ and ‘personal time’. This is as preposterous as it is ludicrous, so if you all are attempting to put on a show of how ‘normal’ you are, you can give up the act. I’m not buying it. Being dissatisfied with your Emperor is one thing, but it doesn’t make you any less _Sith._ I may be stuck on this planet for the moment, but that does not mean I must be subjected to your propaganda. I’m leaving.” She leveled a third tentacle at Siv. “And if you know what’s good for _you,_ Sivin, you’ll walk out with me.” She whirled around and stalked out of the room, retreating down the hall to the back room where she and Sivin had tried to get some rest earlier.

Sivin sighed and gave both Adrestin and Dirae a sheepish look. “Sorry about that. She’s been through a lot recently, and neither of us have really had a chance to process everything. Things are a little rough.”

He made a move to get up, and Adrestin raised one set of eyebrows. “Are _you_ alright, Sivin?”

“I’m…” He shrugged, sighed. “I’m okay. I’m not leaving because of what Zar said, I just… I think she needs to talk to somebody. She’s still my friend. I don’t want her to have to be alone.”

“Understandable.” Adrestin tilted his head to one side. “If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask.”

Siv gave him a weak smile. “Thanks. With any luck we’ll be back out in a little while, eh? Sorry to interrupt.” He got up and slipped past the Sith gathered in the common room to make his way down the hall. He tapped on the door to the back guest room and called softly. “Hey, Zar?”

“It’s open.”

He waved the door aside and slipped in, letting it click shut again behind him. “What just happened out there?”

Zarinne’s yellow eyes flicked back to the door, leery. “I don’t trust any of your newfound _friends,_ Commander Ikalruq. And Commander you still are, not just to me but to the rest of BrightWatch. However many of us there might be even left.”

Sivin’s blood ran cold. “What do you mean?”

Her stare was both sharp and weary. “You’ve been so disconnected with everything lately, I shouldn’t be surprised that you weren’t aware. But a good deal of BrightWatch, along with the Knights of Gallar and Argent Legion, had been called back to Coruscant to convene with the Jedi Council. Jedi Master Vansl had mentioned before I left that the Council was thinking of doing some reorganizing of their hierarchical structure, to ensure that the right power would be in the right places at the right time. But with…” She choked a little on her own words, and had to clear her throat before continuing. “But with the Sith attack on Coruscant and the Jedi Council, there is no telling how many survived. There might not be much of a BrightWatch left.”

Sivin’s heart felt as though it has sunk straight through his stomach and had spilled out somewhere on the floor. “Do you… Do you think it would be too early to try to contact Coruscant and get a list of casualties? I could ask Adrestin to –”

“ _No,_ Sivin, and that’s the problem right there! You go running to your friendly Sith for everything now, you’re at his beck and call, and you are _hardly_ doing the work you _founded_ Brightwatch to do!” Her facial tentacles flattened back in a snarl. “From what I can tell, there is a Sith temple and mausoleum on this very world practically _thrumming_ with power, and you just… Don’t bat an eye at it? Did you even _try_ and destroy it? Did you even _think_ to _allow_ that grave robber to destroy what he wanted, down there? Do you even care anymore? It used to matter to you, keeping the Sith from amassing unnatural power. Does it matter anymore at all?”

Sivin flinched hard at her words, and he crossed the room to sit heavily on the bed. “It _does_ matter, Zar. But I also can’t just ignore everything that I’ve learned since the last mission I was on with BrightWatch. I used to think this whole war was… good versus evil, light versus dark. Jedi versus Sith. I was… I was wrong. There’s more to both the Jedi _and_ the Sith than just that… overly simplistic way of thinking.” He pinched the skin between his eyes and sighed. “You know I’m not one for deep thinking, but even I can recognize that thinking too simply can distort everything to the point where you can’t see reality even if it smacked you in the face. I can’t deny that there are good people on the other side. And I also can’t deny that there are bad people within the Republic and… and even among the Jedi ourselves. On both sides are people that would use and abuse power, whether it be from the Force, from politics, or from artifacts and relics. But there’s also those on both sides who would use that kind of power to make a difference for the better. And I believe that Adrestin is one of those people. His old apprentice is one of those people too, and it’s _his_ world that we’re on, _his_ people, and _his_ ancestors’ Sith temple and mausoleum. And they are doing _nothing_ that could be a threat to the Republic or the Jedi Order. So no, I’m not going to try to destroy them. I’m not defecting and I’m not saying we’re in the wrong – but I’m also not going to turn a blind eye to any of what I’ve learned either.” He took a deep breath. “ And yes, a Sith is the one who has helped me get a handle on this. But I’d be thinking the same thing if he had been a Jedi or anyone else. He’s my _friend,_ Zar. And _you_ are, too. I care so much about _both_ of you, and I don’t want to see anything happen to either of you. I just...” He ran a hand over his face. “I just don’t want to hurt anyone again.”

Zarinne scoffed. “Fine words, Sivin. But that’s all they are. Words. We don’t need speeches, we need warriors. We need people committed to destroying the Sith. _All_ of the Sith. The enemy of our enemy might be our friend, but that doesn’t mean we have to get cozy with them. And for those of us that don’t want to hurt people, Sith or no, isn’t that why you created BrightWatch in the first place? Some of us kill Sith, and some of us destroy their sources of power. That’s BrightWatch’s purpose. But we are still warriors, not speech-makers. And warriors are what we need. Your words are all fine and well-chosen, and I admire your devotion to your friendships. But friendships won’t win wars. And words don’t win wars.”

“No, perhaps words don’t win wars.” He shook his head and sighed as he got to his feet. “But maybe they can end them.”

“Where are you going?”

“Back to the receiving room.” He rested his hand on the frame of the door. “Like it or not Zar, Adrestin is all that we have at the moment. Whether or not you’re comfortable with him, you’re going to have to work with him to get out of here and back to Republic space.”

She took his place on the edge of the bed. “And let me guess. You want me to come with you.”

Sivin leaned his forehead on the door frame and took a slow breath. “…That would be nice, yeah.”

“Is that an order, Commander?”

He shook his head. “No. I’m asking as your friend, Zar. Please come back out there with me.”

She crossed four of her tentacles across her chest and remained where she sat.

“…Alright then. I’ll be back to check in with you in a little bit, and if and when Adrestin decides to cook breakfast I’ll bring you something. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He turned and slipped through the door.

Zar watched him go, and ran a tentacle over her face as the door slid shut behind him. “What is happening to him…”

 

Sivin returned to the receiving room, and as he crossed the threshold the conversation in the room came to a halt. Astele had climbed up next to Erion and had clearly been gushing over how they looked in their new legs, but now all eyes had turned to Sivin, including all four of Adrestin’s. He rose from his seat and came over to Siv’s side. “Is everything all right?”

Sivin blew out a breath, suddenly aware of how agitated his presence was in the Force. “Yeah, it’ll be fine. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt again.”

A single eyebrow rose. “Sivin…”

He gave him a weak smile, but his eyes flicked beyond Adrestin to warily take in all their visitors behind him. “Okay, no, it’s not fine. But there’s plenty of other things to deal with first and I’d rather not talk about it right now, particularly when there’s so much else going on.”

Dirae stood up from beside Dom and glided over to where the two stood talking, addressing the entire gathering as she went. “Perhaps this would be a good time for our dear and talented Lord Belus to demonstrate his skill in the culinary arts? I believe many of us have not eaten in a long while, and would be delighted if he would sate our palettes.” She inclined her head towards the kitchen, and her last words were for Adrestin and Sivin’s ears only. “If the two of you desire to be alone and without interference for a time, the rest of us shall keep our distance.”

Sivin’s relief practically flooded out of him, and Adrestin nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Lord Dirae.”

She inclined her head to Adrestin, and fixed her milky gaze on Sivin. “And if I may take the liberty of speaking with your Jedi friend? If she desires to speak her grievances, I offer to be an earpiece.”

Sivin shook his head. “I doubt it would do any good, but you are welcome to try.”

She nodded. “I shall do so. Oh, and Lord Nitere contacted Lord Belus while you were with Jedi Zarinne, to inform us that he is returning with Gallus soon. The settlers here have been remarkably swift with securing the mausoleum and recovering the bodies of their fallen kin. I will be making as many reparations as I am allowed, for the destruction and tragedy my brother has caused here. And if he has caused any harm to you, I extend those reparations to you as well, Sivin.”

“Me? No, I’m good.”

She smiled and patted his arm. “Go with Lord Belus, and I shall see to it that the rest of our guests are occupied while I speak with Jedi Zarinne.”

Siv and Adrestin nodded and slipped off to the kitchen. Dirae turned back to the common area, and raised a thin eyebrow as she noticed the absence of their two youngest. “And where have Domthus and Astele gone off to?”

Erion waved a hand at the door. <They went for a walk. I believe Astele is bored.>

Light laughter bubbled up from Dirae and she came up to stand beside Eri. “I am sure she and Dom will find their way back just in time for breakfast.”

<Naturally.>

Acerra draped an arm over the back of her couch and shrugged. “Kids will be kids.”

Erion snorted and gurgle-clicked behind their respirator. <Domthus is twenty-three standard years old. He may be naive, but he is not a child.>

One of Acerra’s eyebrows shot up at Eri’s terse tone, but she chose to ignore their comment and merely shrugged again. “Whatever. I’m not really concerned about the Elomin, it’s the Feeorin I’m a little worried about. Is everything okay with Ikalruq? He seems pretty stressed. I don’t know what he was expecting when he realized he was meeting a bunch of Tribunal members, but I’m pretty sure we weren’t it. And his other Jedi friend too. Pretty sure she hates us, but that’s kind of expected.”

Dirae’s gaze flicked back towards the hall. “As you say. I am certain that Lord Belus will ease Sivin’s mind, as he always has done in the past. And as for Jedi Zarinne, I wish to speak with her.”

Erion tilted their head to one side, but didn’t ask. Instead they gestured to the four other Sith in the room. <I will keep our guests company.>

Dirae slid a hand to their shoulder. “Thank you, Erion.” She nodded once to each of the Sith before gliding down the hall.

 

A soft tap on the door to the guestroom alerted Zarinne to someone’s presence on the other side, and she sighed. She sat up from where she had flopped back on the bed, and waved the door open with the Force. “Look, Sivin, if you’re wondering – _oh_ –”

As Dirae slipped inside the room, Zarinne’s facial tentacles flattened back in surprise. But Dirae didn’t move past the first few steps beyond the threshold, and extended a hand to indicate the room. “May I speak with you, Jedi Zarinne?”

Zar visibly shook herself to get rid of the unexpected shock of seeing the Sith come through the door. “If you’re here to scold me for interrupting your pep rally, you can just turn around and walk away.”

“On the contrary,” Dirae murmured, “I would rather ask you if there is anything that would ease your discomfort while you are staying here. If voicing your grievances to those who insist on keeping you under asylum would help to that effect, I would hear them.”

Once again Zarinne’s facial tentacles flattened back, exposing her mandibles with a snarl. “There is nothing I can say to you that hasn’t already been said by a thousand Jedi to a thousand Sith before.”

Dirae took another few steps into the room and folded her hands in front of her waist. “Perhaps. But this is also personal. Sivin Ikalruq is your commanding officer in BrightWatch, and you disagree strongly with his decision to trust the word and intentions of a Sith who has befriended him.”

Zarinne hissed at her words. “‘Befriended’ is a word that’s being thrown around a lot lately, and while I will not be so naive to deny that your Sith Lord cares for my Commander, I can hardly believe that this entire charade is completely devoid of manipulation and propaganda. Sivin is being _used,_ whether it’s intentional or not.”

Dirae raised a thin eyebrow. “And that is different from what your Jedi Council has done to him, how…?”

“It’s _not!”_ Zarinne threw several tentacles in the air in frustration. “It’s not, alright? But at least then it is his _own_ and not an _enemy,_ not someone on the opposite side of a _war.”_

“‘ _Better to be beaten by family than by a stranger’.”_

Zarinne blinked. “…What?”

Dirae fixed her with a flat stare. “It is an oft-heard Expansion Region folk saying. I am surprised you have not heard it.”

“I’ve heard it plenty enough. My own people are from the Expansion Region and I have represented the Jedi Order among them on enough occasions to be familiar with the area. And the phrase. It’s disgusting.”

“Yet that saying is exactly what you have just stated. The Jedi Order purports to become the family of the Jedi it induces into its ranks, does it not? I realize the intent is that family supposedly tempers their abuse with love and care in an attempt at discipline, whereas a stranger often has no such bias, but such sentiments are, as they say, utter tripe.”

Zarinne blew out a breath. “Alright, fine. But Sivin still doesn’t… he doesn’t deserve to be led on. Not by some Sith who could tire of him once he’s satisfied his Kindness Curiosity for the year, or whatever it is that’s going on here. Sivin is… he wants to believe in people so much. He wants to trust someone to do the right thing, and not have it blow up in his face. He wants to be able to care about someone and not have them use that warmth he gives them to fuel some sort of ulterior motive or hidden agenda.” She sighed and ran a tentacle over her face. “…He deserves so much more than this. But he’s throwing away his best hope for getting anything more by staying here.”

“And you believe that if he returned to the Jedi Order, they could provide for him what he needs? He seems to be lacking a great deal in many of the things he needs when he has gone to them before.”

Zarinne cast her eyes up to the ceiling and wriggled her facial tentacles in agitation. “But I wasn’t with him then. He didn’t let me come with him when he went off to Gleiir.”

“Your presence helps, then.”

Zarinne cast Dirae an annoyed glare. “I’ve known him longer than anyone else has bothered to stick around. I’ve been by his side for nearly forty standard years, and have remained there through everything that this galaxy has thrown at him. And it is only now, when the friendship of a _Sith_ proves stronger than my own, have I _ever_ been forced to even _think_ of leaving him. And I do not want to. But if he pushes me into that corner I will be forced to choose between him and the Jedi Order, and I know which way I will have to bend. _Nothing_ has hurt worse, not in my entire life. Not even years ago, when the Jedi Order itself tried to separate us for a time, and that felt as though I was _dying.”_

The light of realization kindled in Dirae’s milky eyes, and slowly she nodded. “…You love him.”

“I did,” Zarinne snapped. “Once upon a time. It was a long time ago. I was young and impulsive and my emotions got control of me for a time. It’s fortunate that Sivin doesn’t have to deal with the notion of romantic love, and he helped me through it. Not that that’s _any_ of your business.”

Dirae nodded slowly, her hair tendrils drifting with the motion. “He knows, then.”

Zarinne rolled her eyes. “Of _course_ he knows, he’s not an idiot. What does it matter?”

“It matters a great deal, as those feelings have clearly solidified and developed into a deep and long-standing friendship. In which case you love him still, though the nature of that love might have changed with time.” Dirae tilted her head to one side. “Am I wrong?”

Zarinne rubbed one arm tentacle with another and shifted in her seat. “…I didn’t say you were wrong, but I fail to see how it’s relevant. Besides, how would a _Sith_ know anything about love?”

Dirae breathed out a patient sigh and gestured to the spot on the bed beside Zarinne. “May I sit?”

Zarinne said nothing, merely shrugged one tentacle. When she wasn’t denied, Dirae sat down beside her and shook her head slowly. “Strange that you should wonder that we know so little of love, when it is the Sith who ascribe to feeling and acting on their most powerful impulses and emotions. Of love I know a great deal. I have a brother who I care deeply for, despite his hatred of my chosen life. My apprentice is like a son to me. I have just recently celebrated my sixth year of being wedded to my Noct. Lord Belus – Adrestin, as your Commander Ikalruq calls him – has been as an elder brother to me for decades of my life. I love and cherish all of them dearly.” She allowed herself a faint smile. “And I also know something of loving one who could not or would not return my feelings. It has been many years since I desired the affections of Lord Erion, but as your affection for your Sivin has transformed into the greater and deeper love of friendship over time, so has mine for Erion. So yes, I understand love very well. In many of its forms. We are not so different as you hope to believe.”

Zarinne scoffed. “The Jedi are _nothing_ like the Sith.”

Dirae’s slender eyebrows rose. “No? The Sith partly _came_ from the Jedi. Tell me, Jedi Zarinne, who was it that petitioned the Je’daii Council twenty-five thousand years ago to establish a new school on Lettow to study alternative ways of approaching the Force?”

“Don’t pretend to teach me our own lore,” Zarinne muttered under her breath, “Anyone who paid attention in Ancient History class knows how the First Great Schism began.”

Dirae favoured her with a warm smile. “And it is our lore as well, Jedi Zarinne. Perhaps if the ancient Je’daii Council had granted Xendor his request, we would have parted ways in peace. Or perhaps if Xendor had not given in to paranoia and hawked his fears of Je’daii conspiracy to the fledgling Republic, we would not have so heedlessly fallen head-first into war. I wish that it was possible to turn back the chronometer, knowing what we know now, to avoid all this unnecessary conflict.”

Zarinne looked sidelong up at Dirae. “And what is it, exactly, that we know now?”

Dirae’s smile faded just a little, but grew gentler. “How a never-ending and ever-escalating war between our two factions will never solve or mitigate any of our problems, nor heal or help the galaxy at large. Neither of our sides were originally warriors, yet we have long since traded philosophy and study for lightsabers and battle.”

“A little late to realize that now.” Zarinne slumped where she sat, curling one tentacle around another.

Dirae cautiously laid a light hand on one of Zarinne’s tentacles. “Perhaps. But I have great hope for the future. If the Sith have among us people like Lord Belus, who still values peace and our ancient roots, and if the Jedi have among you people like Sivin Ikalruq, who still values trust and friendship, then I believe there is hope for healing the grievous wounds we have dealt each other and the galaxy.”

Zarinne studied the back of Dirae’s hand as she avoided making eye contact, and she released a slow sigh. “…You’re… You’re not… _wrong,_ though I can’t say for sure whether you’re in the right or not.”

Dirae’s hand curled lightly over Zarinne’s tentacle. “And what would it hurt to try? To wish for a better tomorrow, and take what steps we believe will carry us there?”

Zarinne didn’t say anything, just slowly shook her head.

“For that is what Lord Belus and the rest of the Sith Tribunal are trying to do. That is what Sivin Ikalruq is trying to do. We know that if the Jedi Order and the Republic win, the Sith will be wiped out. Regardless of who they are or how they lived. We also know that if the Sith Empire wins, our Emperor will not stop at exterminating the Jedi. He will systematically wipe out life from planet to planet in pursuit of ever-growing power, and whatever he touches will die. So I ask you this, Zarinne.” She took her tentacle in both her hands and tilted her head to hold Zarinne’s gaze. “If the choice ends up being between _ending_ the war by subverting your side and sabotaging our own, and yet still having a galaxy to go back to, or _winning_ the war and becoming king of a graveyard, what would you choose?”

The tips of Zarinne’s facial tentacles flushed a warm orange and twisted around to hide her mandibles, but she didn’t pull her tentacle from Dirae’s gentle grip. Instead she dropped her gaze to the floor and shook her head once again. “If you are asking me to give my assistance to whatever Sivin and Lord Belus are trying to do, I can’t give it. I am a Jedi, and my loyalty and duty lies with the Jedi Order and the Jedi Council itself. I will not act to undermine their authority, nor that of the Republic, nor encourage others to do so.”

“…I see.” Dirae nodded and loosened her hold on Zarinne’s tentacle.

But Zarinne didn’t let go. “You misunderstand.”

“Do I?”

“I said I won’t act to undermine the Jedi Order or the Republic, but… I will not try to _stop_ you, either. If, and _only_ if, what you say is true. That you truly _are_ seeking to destroy the power structure that your Emperor has erected around himself. Prove that to me, and then… and I suppose then I’ll owe Sivin a big apology.”

Slowly, Dirae nodded. “Then come with us. When we leave this world, we will be convening with the rest of the Sith Tribunal. You can see for yourself the direction that we intend on nurturing the Sith to grow in, and draw your own conclusion from there. You fall under the direct protection of not only Lord Belus but also myself, and I daresay Lord Acerra and Lord Glaucus as well. No harm will come to you.”

Zarinne hesitated. “…Is Sivin coming too?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“Then I guess I’m coming.” Zarinne shuddered a little, and suddenly realized she hadn’t let go of Dirae’s hand. She released it hastily. “But I’m extending a measure of trust here I have never given anyone outside of the Jedi. You can expect me to be a little jumpy.”

Dirae retreated her hand, but not before lightly patting Zarinne’s tentacle. “As you say. If you wish for someone to act as interpreter and guide while you are within Sith space, I offer to take up the role. Consider it part of a personal apology that you have to put up with so much so unexpectedly.” She favoured Zarinne with a warm and gentle smile, a twinkle in her milky gaze.

Once more the tips of her facial tentacles coloured orange, and Zarinne suddenly stood up and took a few steps back from the bed. She cleared her throat into one of her tentacles and nodded at the door. “I appreciate the offer. I don’t think I can go back out there just yet, but I’ll um… I’ll join you for breakfast once it’s ready?”

“Of course.” Dirae took the hint and rose from her seat, making for the door. “I or Sivin will come to come get you once Lord Belus has finished preparing the meal. I will also be sure that you receive some basic information about the Sith Tribunal and the Imperium it serves, before we arrive at the convening location. Thank you for allowing me to talk with you, Jedi Zarinne. I feel as though we have made the tentative beginnings of an understanding.” Her smile widened and she inclined her head in a small bow.

Zarinne simply nodded at her and parted her facial tentacles in a tiny smile. She watched Dirae take her leave, and remained staring at the door as it slipped shut.

She flopped flat back onto the bed and blew out a noisy breath, casting one tentacle over her eyes as her faint smile stubbornly refused to leave her face. “If I didn't know any better I'd be halfway to believing that there is something in the air here that makes these Sith make... _sense._ Did I actually just _say_ that?" She rolled her eyes at herself. "Not only what is happening to Sivin, but what is happening to _me?”_


	38. In Which There Is Much Exposition About A Tribunal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrestin and Sivin have retreated to the kitchen, where they finally have a little heart-to-heart on who and what the Tribunal is. It seems as though it has been ages since they've had a chance to be alone together, but their brief time alone is suddenly interrupted.

Sivin heaved a sigh as they passed through the swinging double doors to Niam’s kitchen. “Why does it feel like it’s been years since I’ve eaten, slept, or been alone with you?”

Adrestin chuckled and shook his head. “I feel the same. Although sleep might yet still elude us, the other two miraculously come now.” He rummaged through a few cabinets until he found a jar labeled with a sloppy scrawl. He squinted at the letters before twisting the lid off and fishing out a ropy stick of what could have been dried meat, candied taffy, or any number of other unidentifiable edibles. He popped one end in Sivin’s mouth before setting the open container on the counter to dig through a cupboard for pots and pans.

Sivin chewed on the stick thoughtfully, grinning around the end as he recognized the flavour – twisted river-kelp from Odryn, braided and dried. He could already feel its natural caffeine content start to give him a little energy boost, though the spicy aroma also helped perk him up. He leaned back against the counter next to where Adrestin was working, and propped his elbows up behind him. “Can I help?”

Adrestin shook his head as he sprinkled seasonings into a large skillet, already heating up on the stovetop. “You can adorn that counter with your presence, though if I require further assistance I will surely let you know.” He leaned over to place a light kiss on Sivin’s forehead before adding water to the skillet to heat. He reached over to pull ingredients out of the cooling unit, though his upper pair of eyes still remained on Sivin. “And you can talk to me. You are on edge, and troubled.”

Sivin leaned back to thunk his head against the cabinets behind him. “Ugh. I’m just… I’m worried about Zar. I don’t know how to get through to her, and I don’t know how to ease her own worries without backing down on my own decisions.”

“And that is not all you are fretting about.”

Siv took a massive bite of the kelp stick so he wouldn’t have to talk immediately. He nodded slowly as he chewed, but he avoided Adrestin’s gaze. Swallowing hard, he shrugged at the floor. “I guess… I guess I’m also worried about your decision. I didn’t realize you’d wanted a position like that.”

A soft smile flickered over Adrestin’s face. “It surprises you to learn that a Sith desires power?”

Sivin smacked his palm against his forehead and heaved a sigh. “Auugh. Yeah, I know. My stupidity strikes again.”

Using the Force to continue stirring the skillet, Adrestin left it to stand in front of Sivin, taking his shoulders in his hands. “I was attempting to be lighthearted, Sivin. You are far from stupid, and you hardly ever give yourself proper credit for your intelligence. Would you look at me?”

Sivin dropped his hand from his face and stared sheepishly up at his friend. He could feel Adrestin’s low-frequency vibration creep in around him, wrapping him in a cocoon of Force-felt affection. He leaned into it, and slumped forward to rest his forehead on Adrestin’s chest. “Why do I keep forgetting you’re Sith?”

“Mm.” Adrestin curled his arms around him and nuzzled the top of his head. “I do not believe you forget. I believe you are just finding that that particular piece of information is largely irrelevant to how we relate to each other, so you simply put it on your mental back burner.”

Sivin smiled into Adrestin’s scales. “…Yeah, I guess so. But it does kind of jump back out at me later. Like when you’re in the middle of a group of the most powerful Sith I’ve ever felt in the Force, accepting your new place among them. And your presence just… it stands out, even among _them._ That’s…”

“Frightening.”

“Yeah. A little.”

Adrestin ran a hand through Siv’s head tendrils. “I admit that I do not often tap into my fullest potential in the Force. My current lifestyle rarely gives me the need to do so, and yes, that will change when I am officially and fully inducted into the Tribunal. But I remain Adrestin Tsir. The same occurred with Dirae, and Tarandus and Glaucus and Acerra, when each of them joined the Tribunal, and they still remain themselves as well.”

Sivin shuddered at the mention of Acerra, and Adrestin tilted Siv’s head up so he could see his eyes. “Acerra troubles you.”

Sivin nodded. “Eeeeyeah. She’s um. She’s...”

“Anzati.”

Another shiver crawled up Sivin’s spine, and he attempted to offset his unsettled nerves by adding a singsong note to his words. “Legends straight out of Jedi children’s nightmares, coming soon to a reality near you!”

Adrestin smiled and shook his head, sighing a little. “You have nothing to fear from Acerra, Sivin. She would no sooner harm you than a ground-slug could fly.”

“She’s a kriffing Force _vampire,_ Adrestin. How can you be so sure?”

Adrestin laughed. “Because I have waxed poetic about you already to her, and she has already been charmed by what I’ve had to say. Because she is like family to me, and would never harm anyone I hold dear. I have known her all my life, Sivin. She worked with my mother for years before I or any of my clutch was even hatched, and she babysat me when I was a child. She is Anzati, yes. And yes, they are legendary. She has seen the rise and fall of many worlds and many lives, many Empires and Republics, and will see the rise and fall of many more.”

Sivin huffed and rested his cheek on Adrestin’s chest. “So all the old folktales I heard as a child are true, then. Immortal Force-eating vampires. Great.”

“All folktales are based on a kernel of truth, though some are more accurate than others. The myths of the Anzati are almost entirely based on fact, although the belief that they must kill their target to feed is completely false.”

“So comforting.”

Again Adrestin chuckled. “In any event, Acerra herself is much more engaging than most of her species. She was drawn to the Sith Empire long ago by its thriving culture in the Force, but our Emperor’s obsessions have since repulsed her. When she discovered there were those quietly forming their own shadow government within the Empire, she joined them quickly.”

Sivin glanced up without moving his cheek from Adrestin’s chest. “You’d think she’d appreciate the whole ‘quest for immortality’ crap.”

Adrestin shook his head slowly. “Not when the Anzati themselves became a target for Vitiate’s research. That direction of study was… aborted rather abruptly, but the fact that he even attempted to breach the aura of mystery that pervades the Anzati was enough for her and almost all the other Anzati within the Empire to break away.”

Sivin’s eyes widened. “How many of them _are_ there?”

“No one knows. And the Anzati themselves don’t say. Acerra is one of the very few who are open about who and what they are, though. Most of them keep their identities safely masked behind a facade of being any number of other near-human species. The ones that broke away either simply vanished, or they remain publicly loyal to the Empire but are secretly aiding the Sith Tribunal and serving the Imperium.”

Sivin took a deep breath and nodded slowly, finally pulling away from Adrestin to look up at him. “Okay, so that takes care of Acerra. I’ll try not to just… run away screaming if she tries to strike up a conversation.”

Adrestin snickered. “I am sure the effort will be appreciated.”

“But yeah, what you just said. The Sith Tribunal and the… Imperium?” He shrugged helplessly. “I have only the barest idea of this whole shadow government thing and how it works, and now that you’re gonna be right in the thick of it I’d really like to know what’s going on. Is it so super-secret that I can’t know, or…?”

Adrestin shook his head and rubbed one of Siv’s shoulders before turning his attention back to the skillet, adding strips of meat and vegetables and liberally coating them with seasoning. “It is only kept ‘super-secret’ from those loyal to Vitiate, and by extension knowledge of it is kept from those who would possibly spread word of it to him, directly or indirectly. But you are not one of those people. I trust you fully, Sivin. I will tell you whatever you wish to know.”

Siv nodded and dragged a hand down his face. “Okay… so. There’s probably a lot of ground to cover, then. Where should we start?”

A twinkle came to Adrestin’s eyes as he flipped everything in the skillet and set it aside to put another pot on to boil. “Perhaps at the beginning. That is usually quite a fine place to start.”

Sivin rolled his eyes. “Har dee har har. Alright, then. Beginning. How did this whole thing get off the ground?”

“Hmm.” Adrestin focused on the stovetop for a long and thoughtful moment before he spoke again. “…There was an ambassador to the Sith Empire, many years ago, from a rarely-encountered species known as Ydreihro. He came to the Sith, curious about our power in the Force, and desired to learn of our culture. So he stayed among our elite for a long time, studying our ways but never sharing of his own. We did not even know their homeworld then, and most of us still do not know it now. And the species themselves still remain much shrouded in mystery. We only know they have a natural affinity to the Force, and are quite long-lived, possibly because of that affinity.”

Sivin squirmed a little from where he leaned on the counter. “More immortal monster legends, come to life. I’ve only heard of them, and barely even that. Even with all my dealings with other species as a Jedi Master, I’ve never met one.”

Adrestin nodded. “They are rather secretive. But this one, this ambassador, grew enamored enough with the Sith and our ways that he became one of us. He gave himself the name of Darth Meridian and took on apprentices, and watched the rise and fall of many powerful Sith Lords before Vitiate came to prominence. But despite Vitiate’s courting, Lord Meridian never agreed with much of what Vitiate planned for the Sith Empire. He grew reclusive and retreated to his own private compound, taking his apprentices with him. The few other Ydreihro among us vanished along with him as well, and it was a long time before anyone heard anything of his apprentices. But all three apprentices eventually returned to the Sith Empire and supposedly picked up where they had left off, each already having gained the title of Darth. One was a Myke, Darth Invictus, one was a Sith Pureblood and seer, Darth Aevitas, and one was a Devaronian, Darth Scadox. My former master.”

Sivin raised an eyebrow, but didn’t delve into any questions he might have had about _that._ Adrestin didn’t show any indication of speaking much about his master, as he’d already moved on. “His three apprentices had returned to the Sith Empire to secretly investigate the minds and hearts of those with power within the Sith ranks, and to gather those who they believed might be receptive to opposing Vitiate’s influence. They were not disappointed. Aevitas is well connected with oracles and seers among the Sith, and many of them had already voiced discontent and objections to the direction Vitiate was taking the Empire. It didn’t take long for her to find several who would back a severance with Vitiate. Lord Musca has always been an outcast and a renegade, and Lord Khorr has never even acknowledged Vitiate’s legitimacy.”

Both of Siv’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Wouldn’t that be considered, I don’t know, treason?”

Adrestin shrugged as he piled vegetables into the steaming pot. “Seers and oracles are… treated a little differently. They often don’t function easily among the rest of Sith society, and the rest of Sith society tends to give them broad freedoms not accessible to the general masses, because of the nature of their seclusion. So they can often get away with saying whatever they want, although the very nature of being an oracle means that whatever you say tends to be rather obtuse and cryptic.”

Sivin chuckled. “Note to self: in your next life, be an oracle.”

Adrestin smiled and shook his head. “It is not an easy life, and certainly not one I envy. But suffice it to say that the Sith Empire lost the loyalty of most of its seers the moment Vitiate wrested control. It was not hard for Aevitas to locate her most trusted associates and ask them to meet with Meridian.”

“And what about the other two apprentices?”

“Lord Scadox had somewhat less luck, though he did discover that a young and powerful member of a Zabrak family he had long known was quite receptive, and already had many ideas of his own on breaking away from the Empire. He was Darth Vialis, who is the elder brother of Lord Tarandus out in the receiving room. At the time Vialis did not insist on bringing his younger brother with him, though he did make it very clear when the Tribunal was first formed that he expected Tarandus to have a place among them. But I’m getting ahead of myself.” Adrestin paused the conversation to measure out a creamy broth and pour it over the steaming vegetables. “In any event, Lord Invictus had the most luck. He is charismatic, persuasive, and a powerful leader. His entire Myke clan and their associates followed him to Lord Meridian’s side, including several siblings which proved instrumental in getting many of Meridian’s ideas off the ground, though they do not claim to be founders. Lord Invictus also informed Lord Acerra of Meridian’s thoughts on breaking away, and she readily joined then.”

“Mm.” Sivin had reached into the open container on the counter to pull out another kelp stick, and chewed on one end thoughtfully. “So that makes… how many founding members of this thing, now?”

“Eight, excluding Invictus’s siblings. The ninth was Hirudo M’rod’n, a Tholothian shaper of crystals who had long since resided in Sith space. He has never had Sith training, as far as I am aware, but he is deeply sensitive to the Force and has been one that many Sith have gone to for lightsaber crystals. He is highly selective about who he chooses to give his crystals to, a fact that has not endeared him to Vitiate or the Empire at large.”

“So you’re not all Sith, then.”

Adrestin shook his head. “No, we are not. Outside of the Tribunal itself, many of Acerra’s people that have aligned themselves with us have never claimed loyalty to the Sith Empire, nor have most of the Ydreihro among us. And there are many more among the Myke.”

“Huh. I don’t hear much about the Myke, either. Seen ‘em around, but they just kind of...” Sivin waved a hand vaguely, “They just blend in with all the other humanoid and near-human species out there.”

Adrestin reached over to break off the end of the stick Sivin was chewing on and popped it into his own mouth. “Do not underestimate the Myke, or be fooled by their supposed commonality. They are one of the farthest-flung of the true-breeding offshoots of the original Sith race, but their ties to the Force are just as strong as their core heritage.”

Sivin’s brow shot up. “They hide it pretty well. Almost every single one I’ve met has been a smuggler, a pirate, or some other shady rogue.”

Adrestin laughed. “They do hide it well, and that is intentional. There is safety in misdirection and misrepresentation.”

“I guess,” Sivin frowned. “But what do they have to hide? Aren’t they among their own in the Sith Empire?”

“Not quite. The Myke have plans all their own. But by and large they do find that they need not conceal their natures among the worlds of the Imperium. They have mostly dispersed from the Sith Empire’s systems, and almost all of them can be found among the Imperium instead. From there the ones with strong wanderlust often do go abroad, and are almost invariably the ones that you would see out among the Republic’s worlds. But we are getting sidetracked.”

“Oh, yeah. Right. The, what was it, nine founding members of the Tribunal?”

Adrestin gave him a nod as he covered up the steaming pot and pulled a loaf of bread from a storage box on the opposite end of the counter. “They all met at an enclave, and after weeks upon weeks of discussion, argument, collaboration, and the average Sith amount of in-fighting, they all came to an accord.”

“Miracles.”

“Heh.” Adrestin snickered as he sliced the bread, sprinkling a liberal amount of shredded Neonan red cheese over each piece. “When Sith are in mutual agreement over one thing they all find all-encompassing in importance, it can bring them together with bonds of fierce loyalty. The Sith Tribunal and the Sith Imperium comprise such a bond. We are committed to preserving and furthering the true heritage and legacy of the Sith, protecting and serving the people who look to us for leadership and protection, and bringing down the regime that Vitiate has forced upon half the galaxy.” He took a slow breath. “But we cannot do so openly, not yet. We grow in power and resources every day, but we are not yet ready to confront Vitiate and his Forces. So we do what we can. Subversion, diversion, sabotage, spies. The usual tricks of a shadow government.”

Sivin slowly nodded. “…But you’re a lot bigger than just some rival faction, aren’t you? This goes deeper. Doesn’t it.”

The twinkle in Adrestin’s eyes returned, and he winked his left set of eyes at Siv. “Your intuition serves you well. The Imperium gains territory and loyalty daily, but it is not just things of that nature that interests us. Preservation is key.”

Sivin cocked his head and went for another kelp stick. “What do you mean?”

“It is no secret that the Sith Empire as it is presently is unstable, unsustainable, and with little in the way of solid foundations. It balances on the edge of a proverbial knife.” Adrestin’s upper eyes flicked to the door of the kitchen. “It is not a matter of if, but _when_ it will fall. And not even the Imperium or the Tribunal can prevent that.”

“I… honestly didn’t expect that.” Sivin shrugged, not catching the direction of Adrestin’s gaze. “They seem pretty powerful right now.”

Slowly, Adrestin pulled his gaze from the door, his words a little quieter than before, but just as clear. “Powerful, yes. But so is a supernova explosion. The last breath of a dying star is when it is at its greatest and most violent. And so it is with the Sith Empire. Our Empire _will fall._ And it will be the Imperium and the Tribunal who will protect and preserve what remains. The Sith Empire may turn to ash in the inferno of the galaxy, but the embers of the Sith themselves will remain. The Tribunal takes it upon themselves to protect those embers until they can burn brightly once more. And perhaps the next time, it will be a fire that brings warmth and life, instead of destruction and death.”

“…I admit you Sith speak fine words.”

Sivin startled and turned to the door. Zarinne stood at the threshold, her arm tentacles crossed as she slowly made her way across the kitchen to stand near Sivin. Her wary yellow eyes never left Adrestin, but she nodded once to him as she passed.

“Your Sith Lady friend also had fine words to say. Very convincing, I admit.”

Siv gave her a tentative smile and reached a hand for one of her tentacles. She took it, but her eyes remained on Adrestin. “Darth Dirae invited me to accompany you to this… meeting of the Tribunal. I accepted, with reservation.” Her gaze flicked ever so briefly to Siv, but riveted back on Adrestin’s lower pair of eyes. “What it is you are doing here, I won’t try to stop you. I doubt it would do any good even if I did. But you will explain one thing to me, Sith.”

Adrestin raised an eyebrow. “And what, pray tell, will I explain?”

She released Siv’s hand and jabbed a tentacle up at Adrestin, deliberately stepping between him and Sivin. “If you care so much about Sivin, why did you use him? Why hold him for ransom? Why kill all of his team, and spare only his life?” She practically spat her words. “Those were his _friends_ as well, you know.”

Adrestin blinked in surprise. “I did not kill his iconoclast team.”

Sivin grasped Zarinne’s shoulder and half-turned her around. “Is that what you thought, Zar? I told you, he _saved_ me. Our whole team was wiped out by Sithspawn from the shrine there. Those same Sithspawn killed most of Adrestin’s team as well.”

Zarinne snorted. “It certainly was hard to tell, from all the lies you had to put in your report. How was I to know what was true and what was a fabrication to cover for your _friend?”_

“This isn’t one of them.” Sivin gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Zar, he never touched any of my team.”

Zarinne shook her head and glared up at Adrestin. “That still does not explain how easily you played us, how you held Sivin for ransom to release your little Rodian Sith friend. You _used_ him.”

Sivin and Adrestin exchanged looks, neither of which was lost on Zarinne. One facial tentacle curled back to expose her mandibles. _“What happened?”_

“Zar…” Sivin once again took a tentacle in hand. “You have to understand, I was… I was hurting. I was a mess. And all the comfort and support and understanding I had was coming from Adrestin. He gave that to me, even when he was hurting from his own losses as well. I _needed_ that. I needed more time with him. I was panicking, didn’t know what to do. It was quick thinking on Adrestin’s part that allowed us to have a little more time together. Yeah, it also released Dirae’s apprentice, but honestly Zar. Would you have believed him if he _hadn’t_ demanded a ransom? What else could he have done, that wouldn’t have ended in the extraction team and the Sith survivors from tearing each other apart?”

Zarinne swallowed hard, and slipped her tentacle from Siv’s grip. She ran it over her face and blew out a sigh, shaking her head slowly. “I wish… I wish you’d told me this earlier, Sivin.” She took a step back, and looked up at her Commander. “But why… why didn’t you come to me, instead? I would have given you support and comfort, if only you had asked.”

Sivin’s face fell, and his eyes dropped to the floor. “I… have an answer, but I don’t think you’re going to like it. I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you.”

Adrestin cleared his throat and took a step back from the two. “If you wish to be alone, I can –”

But Zarinne’s tentacles were crossed once more over her chest, mandibles bared. “No. If Sivin has something to say, he can say it right here, right now.”

Sivin squeezed his eyes shut, and slowly he nodded. “Zarinne… you have been with me longer than anyone else I have known. Stuck by my side through things that everyone else has left me over, managed to live through more than all of the others I’ve cared about, and given me so much, even a piece of your heart. I have not forgotten that. I never will.”

Zarinne’s gaze grew steely. “But?”

A lump grew in Sivin’s throat that he couldn’t even swallow down. “But… all of that has been because of _what_ I am, not _who_ I am. You love Sivin the Commander of BrightWatch, Sivin the Jedi Master, Sivin the Iconoclast, destroyer of Sith artifacts. Even when I voiced my doubts to you, your only thought was putting me back on the path the Jedi have planned out for me.”

“Because that is your _life,_ Sivin. You _are_ a Jedi. Don’t tell me that you’re abandoning that.”

He shook his head. “I’m not. And you’re right – I _am_ a Jedi. But I don’t think I can continue to be the kind of Jedi you want me to be. That the Council wants me to be. Things are changing, Zar, and I can’t trust that you’ll understand or accept that.”

Her eyes narrowed. “So what you’re saying is that you can’t trust _me.”_

Tears welled up in Sivin’s eyes, and once more he shook his head. “Not with this.” He rubbed at his face, voice wavering. “I _want_ to trust you, Zar. Desperately. I want to believe that it’s _me_ you care about, and not just what you see in the Order. I hope so badly that I’m wrong about this.”

Zarinne was silent. The tension in the air around them was palpable for long minutes, drawn tight like an anchor caught upon rocks. Her gaze flicked momentarily to Adrestin, then fixed back upon Siv. “Sivin… you know me better than anyone in all of the Jedi Order. I can’t deny that.” Her mandibles slipped back beneath her facial tentacles, and she reached up to touch Sivin’s arm. “Nor can I say that your insight is misplaced.”

Siv’s tears finally fell, and slowly he nodded.

But Zarinne shook her head. “But your insight is still flawed.” her grip on his arm tightened. “I fell in love once, with the Commander of BrightWatch. I adored Sivin the Jedi Master. I held nothing but reverence and awe for Sivin the Iconoclast. And here you are, barely still any of those things. I will not say it hasn’t changed my feelings, because it would be a lie. I have lost who I loved. I barely know who stands before me. But… There is yet a part of me that still cares for _you,_ Sivin Ikalruq, still a Jedi Master though I know not of what, friend of Sith, future ambassador of the Council and Republic to the Sith Empire. Perhaps you will help me discover who that person is. Perhaps one day we can both come to trust the other again.”

More tears spilled down Sivin’s face, and his eyes squeezed shut as he nodded. “I’d – I’d like that.”

Zarinne took a step back towards the door, tentacle slipping down to squeeze Sivin’s hand. “I need some time, Sivin. And I think you do as well. I can… I can see why you would turn to someone like… like him,” she inclined her head towards Adrestin, “and I would have to say I had gone blind, if I did not see that he truly does love you for… for you. In time… I would like to say the same. I suppose we will see.”

Once more Siv nodded. “I’m sorry, Zarinne. I didn’t –”

She gave him a small smile. “Honestly, Sivin. You don’t have anything to apologize for.” She released his hand and took another step towards the door. “It is I who should be apologizing. I’ve turned you into an ideal and a hero. A dream. To expect you to live up to that, it’s… unfair. I’m not the Jedi Council, Siv. And in this you are wrong – I won’t so easily abandon you for turning into something I don’t want you to be. But I need time. I need time to prove to me that you’ll still be someone I can love and give my friendship to, when this whirlwind has passed and the dust has settled.”

She turned and slipped through the door, glancing one last time at Adrestin. “Take good care of him.”

Adrestin inclined his head at her retreating form. “I intend to.”

The doors slid shut behind her and Sivin stood there in silence, watching the spot she had disappeared. Adrestin eyed him for a long moment, and finally cleared his throat to get his attention. “…Sivin?”

“What? Oh yeah. Um. Sorry about that.” He ran an arm over his eyes before turning to Adrestin, although his gaze was on the stewing pots instead of his friend. “Where – where were we?”

Adrestin gave him a wan and humorless smile. He reached out a hand to tilt Siv’s chin up. “None of that. I know you are not okay, Siv. You do not have to pretend.”

Sivin’s watery eyes almost instantly spilled their tears, and he lunged forward to bury his face in Adrestin’s chest. “I’m sorry, Adrestin – I just… I had hoped, really _hoped,_ that… that…”

Adrestin stroked Siv’s head and wrapped his arms around him. “…That Zarinne thought your friendship as unconditional as you yourself had thought and hoped it to be?”

A miserable nod from Sivin. His tears streamed unhindered down his face and smeared over Adrestin’s scales, and his frame racked with his sobs. Adrestin curled his arms tighter around his friend and pressed his nose against the side of Siv’s face. “I’m so sorry, Sivin.”

“’s not your fault.” Siv’s words were muffled and hitched.

“Give her time. She still cares for you, she just needs to come to understand on her own.”

A weak nod from Sivin, and his grip tightened around Adrestin’s waist.

“Shh, I’m here.” Adrestin kissed Siv’s temple and rocked him gently back and forth where they stood. “I’m here.”

“You won’t… you won’t leave me, will you, Adrestin?”

“Never, Sivin.” He held him tightly against him, wrapping the Force around them like a shield. “Never.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there's a LOT of exposition here on the Tribunal, and I apologize if it's kind of irrelevant to the actual plot. I just have a lot of worldbuilding nonsense floating around the particulars of this story, so at this point I guess this kind of counts as even more of an AU than usual. I wish I had time enough to write out all the stories of all of the Tribunal characters, they're some of my favourite OCs I've ever created ;3;  
> But anyway, yeah. The Ydreihro are one of mine, but the other species mentioned are all canon. The relationship of the Myke to the Red Sith has been alluded to at various points in the old canon but never really elaborated on, so I kind of... took what was already established and ran with it. You could say the same about the Anzati - they're such an awesome species, and I hate to see them dragged through the mud with the whole bullshit of "even though their behavior is biologically evolved and entirely natural for them, it's totally what makes them go mad, yep, sure thing, space vampires are evil mmkay". So I ripped out all the bullshit, kept the good parts, and now it's fixed. 8D


	39. In Which Breakfast Is Eaten And Goodbyes Are Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is preparing to leave Niam's homeworld and they all make their goodbyes, some of which are unexpected. But just as they are about to leave, someone (someones?) make an appearance and have an unanticipated request.

“Lords, Jedi, and gentlefolk, it is my honor to inform you that breakfast is ready.”

Adrestin stood just outside the doors that led to the dining hall, gesturing back the way he had come. “It is fortunate that Niam’s home is already well-equipped for settlement gatherings, so there is plenty of room for all eleven of us. Or… thirteen of us, rather. Hello Niam, and Gallus as well. Did you just return?”

Niam nodded as the whole group shuffled into the dining hall. “Yeah. On our way back I asked Brizx’t if they wanted to join us, but they were kind of preoccupied with whatever data they’d collected on you and the tank and the old goat. I think they’re up to something.”

Adrestin graced him with a smile as he followed the last of them in and assisted Niam to his seat at the head of the long table, laden with food. “Brizx’t is _always_ up to something. And I trust that they will collect on what I owe them before the day is out, and then I assume they will leave. Do not trouble yourself too much about them.”

Niam shrugged and started helping himself to the steaming dishes before him, passing them around as he filled up his plate. “I’m not too worried. They’ve stayed inside their ship this whole time, something I’m sure my people are grateful for.”

Dirae nodded from across the table. “Your people will not have to bear with so many strangers’ presences for much longer. I do believe that the majority of us will be taking our leave as soon as we have finished here.”

It was Acerra’s turn to nod. “Quite right. The nature of our brief stay here has been altered, thanks to the sacking of Coruscant. Our dumb-ass Emperor’s idiocy in invading the Republic has had the side effect of eliminating the threat of further attacks on the colony, so I doubt all three of us are needed here.” She gestured to Nothus and Glaucus on either side of her, both of which murmured their agreement.

Nothus passed a dish on to Gallus beside him, still nodding his head in accord with Acerra. “I honestly doubt you’d need heavy hitters like Lord Glaucus and Lord Acerra,” he said, directing his words to Niam, “But it wouldn’t hurt to have a little extra security regardless. If it’s alright with you, I could stay and help look after the colony. Provided I could keep the shuttle? I don’t think you would miss it too much.” And here he turned large inquisitive eyes to Acerra.

She snickered. “Of course, of course. After all, we came in the warship. The shuttle was just to transport us to the surface.”

Astele’s eyes grew wide and she bounced up and down in her seat across from Acerra. “You came in a _warship?”_

“We came in a warship.” Acerra’s eyes twinkled, and her proboscises flicked out momentarily as she grinned. “A _Terminus-_ class destroyer, the _Viridescent._ It’s the flagship of my fleet.”

Astele smacked Dom on the shoulder, jarring him from staring down studiously at his plate. She practically stood on her chair as she shook him. “Did you hear that, Dom? A _destroyer!_ How cool is that? Man, I wish we could go.”

<Sit down, Apprentice.> Erion had to physically shove her back down into her seat, and held a hand on her head for a few moments to ensure she would stay there.

Acerra’s grin only grew wider. “You might just get your wish, kiddo. It’s currently orbiting the colony world. If Nothus wants to keep the shuttle – and if it’s alright with Adrestin – we can all pile into the _Archon Red_ and board the _Viridescent_ from there.” She gestured to Adrestin. “Since we’re all going to the same place, your ship could just dock with ours and we could take everyone to the Tribunal’s Enclave.”

Astele practically vibrated in her seat, and leaned over to whisper into Dom’s ear. “Did you hear _that,_ Dom? We’ll get to _board_ it! This is _so cool.”_

Dom managed to flash her a weak vestige of a smile. “That’s… great, Astele. Great.”

She eyeballed him quizzically, and her whisper grew fierce. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been so quiet, ever since we woke up. What gives?”

Dom shushed her with a shake of his head, his own whisper equally intense. “We’ll talk later.”

Astele shrugged and tried to turn her attention back to the rest of the table’s conversation. Erion had pointed a finger at Niam, but directed their words to the entire group. <And I could leave the _Metis_ for Lord Nitere to use in the meantime, if he wishes a starfighter as added security. >

Niam nodded. “I’d appreciate that. Thanks, Eri.”

A single eyebrow raised over Erion’s respirator. <For once I am not ‘old goat’. The lengths I must go to for you to show proper respect are extraordinary.>

Niam waved their retort away with a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head.”

“In any event, that is fine with me,” Adrestin interjected. “There is room enough aboard the _Archon Red_ if anyone so chooses. And I might point out that if my ship spends the journey in your docking bay, there is one less record of hyperspace routes for our dear friends in the Dark Council to attempt to get a hold of.”

“True indeed.” Acerra beamed at him. “And you do know how much I like to drive.”

Dirae let out a musical chuckle as she finished her plate. “I do wish that I could join you, but I will be the only current member of the Tribunal that will not be physically present once you reach your destination. Tarandus and I do intend to be there via hologram, but we will more than likely still be in hyperspace transit when the Enclave forms. In any case, we do need to leave, very soon. I apologize for cutting this so short.”

Niam shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, mama. You’ve got a lot to do.”

She favoured him with a smile, and turned her milky gaze to Gallus. “That only leaves the question of you, dear Apprentice. Do you wish to stay and assist Niam and Nothus? My personal journey with my brother and Tarandus does not have to be your burden as well.”

Gallus cocked his head to one side, his antennae twitching. _“Aripi?_ Are yeh serious, _Greeava?”_

She nodded. “Every opportunity that you and Niam have time together, you always wish you had more. As loath as I am to leave you, it will not be the first time we have spent an extended length of time apart. I trust that you could do much to help protect and guard this colony.”

Gallus’s snout twisted upward in a grin. _“Je, je,_ I’d like dat. If Niam’s up for it, _je?”_

“‘Course I am, slick. Always have liked your company. I’d love to put you up for a few months.”

Gallus’s compound eyes glittered. _“Cthn rulyen stka wen!”_

Dirae’s musical laughter was echoed by both Acerra and Adrestin’s chuckles, and she smiled. “That settles that, then. Gallus will stay here.” She stood up from the table as everyone finished their meal. “Thank you again, Lord Belus, for a wonderful breakfast. And thank you, Lord Nitere, for being such a gracious host.”

Both Niam and Adrestin nodded in acknowledgment, and the entire group shuffled back into the receiving room. Both Tarandus and Dirae headed for the door, pausing on the threshold. Dirae reached a slender hand for Niam, who stepped forward to take it. She beamed down at him. “It will be a long while before we will return to traditionally Sith-held space, but we are leaving it in good hands. Goodbye, Lord Nitere. Thank you for your hospitality.” She turned to the side and knelt down, reaching forward to gather Dom and Astele in an embrace. “Goodbye, young friends. I will be sure to record our travels so I will have tales to tell you when I return.” She released them and gestured for Adrestin, Sivin, and Erion, who all embraced her before stepping back. She turned to the group once more and inclined her head. “I will greet you again at the Enclave, via hologram. If you would walk me to my ship, my dear Gallus?”

“ _Je, Greeava.”_

He stepped up to her side, but at the last moment Dirae turned back and fixed her gaze on Zarinne. “…It occurs to me, Jedi Zarinne, that you have many questions that still need answers. Perhaps the close proximity of such Dark Side power as the entire Sith Tribunal is not what would facilitate a better understanding. You have already been invited to observe the Enclave, but I offer you an alternative. My journey will lead me along the edges of the Outer Rim, flitting in and out of Sith and Republic space. It is not a political journey, but a personal one. Perhaps such an informal setting would be more beneficial for you. You are welcome to join us.”

Both Zarinne and Sivin’s eyes grew wide, and Zarinne looked from Dirae to Siv and back again, her lower facial tentacles quivering in confusion. “…Why invite me?”

Dirae’s smile was gentle. “Because we connected, albeit tentatively and briefly, earlier this morning. Because I am not quite in the thick of the intense personal relationships that tear you in multiple directions at once, and so can provide a different, though not necessarily more objective, point of view. And because it would give you the opportunity to slip back into Republic space undetected, if you so chose.”

Zarinne rubbed one arm tentacle with another, eyes cast down to the floor. “…I am not saying I trust you fully, but what you are offering sounds legitimate and… promising, almost.” Her gaze flicked quickly to Adrestin and back again as she shrugged. “I cannot say the same of this… current situation. I do not believe I am more likely to come to any sort of understanding from delving deep into the heart of the Sith Empire, Tribunal-run or no. Perhaps... it would be best if I took you up on your offer.” She paused only briefly before turning a sharp nod to Dirae. “I’ll go.”

Dirae inclined her head to Zarinne and slipped past the threshold, followed by Tarandus. Zarinne gazed quietly at the floor for a short moment before making a few slow strides after her.

Sivin started towards her, but hesitated after a single step. “Zar –”

She looked back over her shoulder, the yellow of her eyes softened by moisture in their corners as she shook her head. Zarinne’s facial tentacles parted, and her mandibles mouthed ‘goodbye’ before she turned and followed Dirae out the door.

Siv stared at the spot that she had disappeared as the door closed behind her before making for the door himself. But before he could thrust it open, Adrestin called softly. “Sivin.”

He paused and turned, sighing as he did so. “I know, I know. I shouldn’t go after her.”

Adrestin merely shook his head. “If you wish to go after her, I will not stop you. Just take a moment to think about both your well-being and her own before making that decision.”

Sivin rested a hand on the frame of the door, eyes on the ground. “…No, you’re right. She needs this. I just…”

Adrestin came up next to Siv and slipped a hand over the one on the door, taking it in his own and pulling Siv close beside him. “We should all gather any belongings we might have left before boarding the _Archon Red._ Astele, be absolutely sure you’ve collected all of your things. I know you tend to scatter them whenever you stay in one place for more than a day or two. Dom, if you could help her? Meet with us at the ship when you are done. We won’t leave without everyone, so don’t worry.”

“Sure thing.” Dom gave Adrestin a half-hearted salute and followed Astele back to the room they had been staying in. Adrestin’s lower pair of eyes watched him go, a single eyebrow raised at Dom’s demeanor. But he turned back to the others and patted Erion on the shoulder. “If you would show our honored Lords the ship, I will ensure we do not leave anything behind.”

<Of course.> Eri gave one glance down the hall where Dom and Astele disappeared to, and cocked their head up at Adrestin as their voiced dropped to a whisper. <Something is wrong with Domthus.>

“Yes, though I do not know what exactly is wrong. I do not intend on meeting with the Enclave before I find out what he is worrying about.”

<There will be time when we are on route in hyperspace.>

Adrestin nodded, and Erion slipped away with Glaucus and Acerra in tow. Niam still stood by, and Adrestin waved him over with a smile. “It appears we will be taking leave of you shortly. Thank you for being such a gracious host.”

“Naw, boss. It’s you that’s been great. Thanks for coming when I needed you.”

“Any time, Niam. I will always consider you one of my own, no matter how long you may be gone.”

Niam broke out into a grin and threw himself in Adrestin’s arms, and Adrestin caught him up in a tight hug. Niam reached over Adrestin’s shoulder to Sivin, and motioned for him to come closer. “You too, tank. C’mere.”

Sivin couldn’t help but smile as he complied with Niam’s order and sandwiched the little Sith in between him and Adrestin, hugging both of them close. “You’ve been so kind, Niam. Thank you.”

“Bah, ‘s nothing. Any friend of the boss and the old goat is a friend of mine. You’re welcome here any time.”

The two released Niam and let him slip back down to the ground, and he flashed them a wide grin as he thrust a thumb back at Gallus and Nothus behind him. “I gotta get these two into doing something productive around here. Have an interesting trip, and let me know how things play out. You don’t need to lock up or anything when you go, you know how it is around here. Force free you.” Niam tipped two fingers to his forehead in farewell and slipped out the door with Nothus and Gallus following with a wave.

Sivin blew out a breath. “So… how many of us are going to be on your ship?”

Adrestin chuckled. “Just seven. But it won’t be for long, only as long as it takes to meet with the _Viridescent_ and dock the ship. Then we’ll have the entirety of a destroyer to wander while we’re on route to the Enclave.”

“Heh. Yeah. A destroyer populated by Sith and their allies, eh? I might just stay on the _Archon Red_ until we get to our destination. I don’t want to ruffle any feathers.”

Adrestin nodded. “That is up to you, although we will need to leave the ship once we arrive at the Enclave. If it makes you uncomfortable to be on an unfamiliar Sith ship, I will not pressure you to leave mine.”

“I guess I’ll play it by ear.” He leaned against Adrestin and smiled up at him when he curled an arm around his shoulders. “When do we leave?”

“Within the hour.”

 

* * * * *

 

“I don’t get it, Dom.”

He sighed as he tucked the last of Astele’s stray belongings in her backpack, already hoisted over one of her shoulders. “I know, I know. But a destroyer is a _huge_ ship, Astele. With a _lot_ of crew. A lot of _Sith_ crew. Sith _military_ crew. Going to an Enclave of the _entire Sith Tribunal._ And I just… I mean, that’s way, _way_ different than a farm settlement.”

“So?”

“So… I’m not Sith, ‘Stel.”

She shrugged. “Neither is Siv.”

“Yeah, but… But Sivin is a _Jedi Master._ At least he’s got all that power and experience behind him. He already knows how to work around big fancy people and big fancy parties. I’m just… me. I really don’t belong anywhere near there. I already feel like a bug on a transparisteel windowscreen. And if I draw any attention to myself, I’m going to feel like a bug under a microscope.”

Astele stuck out her lower lip. “But you’re gonna miss out on so much cool stuff if you just hide inside Lord Belus’s ship the whole time. Aren’t you at least a _little_ bit curious?”

“Well, yeah, but…” he zipped up her pack and got up from where he had been kneeling, taking her hand as they headed back to the landing area. “But you could just tell me about it too, you know. After you wander around getting into trouble.”

Her lower lip jutted out even further. “It’s not as fun when you’re not around.”

“Don’t give me that look.”

She added a frown to it. “I’m not giving you a look.”

“Yes you are!” He shoved at her shoulder and laughed. “Look Astele, it’s not the end of the – what’s that?”

Astele’s gaze followed Dom’s pointing finger, and zeroed in on the tiny ball of metal joints skittering towards them over the rocky ground. Her eyes grew wide. “It’s one of Brizx’t’s droids! C’mere little guy – how’d you get out here?”

But as she reached for the droid it scurried just out of range from her touch. Two pointed little legs pulled a small round device from its back and thrust it up in the air, waving it at Astele.

Her head cocked to one side, she took it and flipped it over on her palm. “What’s this? A comm unit?”

It whirred to life in her hands, unfolding and displaying a miniature projection of the Vratix Sith Lord. _“Greetings,_ little Sith. We seek _Lord Belus. Immediately.”_

Her eyes grew wide. “Yeah, sure! Gimme just a second, we’re almost at the ship.”

The projection vanished and the unit folded back in on itself without another word. She shrugged and pointed at the droid as she handed the communicator back to it. “Follow us, little guy. This way!”

She took off at a sprint and Dom followed along after her and the droid, shaking his head. It took only moments before the angular outline of the _Archon Red_ materialized out of the haze, and two familiar figures were leaning against one of the struts, talking. Astele slid to a halt just before the lowered boarding ramp beside them, waving both arms in greeting. “Lord Belus! Hey Siv. Lord Belus, Brizx’t wants to talk to you!”

Both Dom and the little droid caught up with her, and Dom stopped to catch his breath. Siv crouched down beside him and tucked a hand around his waist. “Take it easy there, eh? You shouldn’t be overdoing it.”

Dom’s eyes crinkled up in a smile behind his respirator. “Thanks, Siv. I really appreciate your concern, but I really am doing a lot better. Besides, I wanna hear this.”

They both turned to Astele, who was hopping from one foot to the other as the little droid presented its communicator to Adrestin. He took it gently from its metal grip and turned it over, one set of eyebrows raising. The comm unfolded and once again the miniature projection of Brizx’t materialized above it.

“Ah, Lord _Belus._ Greetings, _greetings._ We understand you are _departing,_ soon.”

Adrestin nodded. “Indeed. I had intended on contacting you before we left, to see if you had decided upon payment.”

Brizx’t’s mandibles opened wide, and the faint buzzing of their wings beneath their wingcase lended mirth to their facsimile of a grin. “We _have._ We have, _indeed._ We will be there _shortly_ to _discuss_ it with you.”

Adrestin’s other set of eyebrows shot up, but before he could clarify the whirring sound of engines reached his ears. The strange gleaming form of Brizx’t’s narrow ship pierced through the mist, and the shadows that flitted over its hull seemed to shift and crawl independent of the dim light of day. It landed beside the _Archon Red,_ so close its wings were almost touching. The boarding ramp came down and a small swarm of tiny droids erupted from its hatch, followed by Brizx’t themselves. Dom took a step closer to Siv, grateful his arm was still curled around him.

But Adrestin merely stepped forward and inclined his head. “Lord Gnosia. I will forego the small talk. What shall be my payment?”

Brizx’t approached, both sets of mandibles clacking as their hooked fingertips tapped together. “Not just _yours,_ but Lord _Erion’s_ as well, _certainly.”_ They nodded once to Astele before turning their compound gaze up to stare at Adrestin. “We _know_ you are _leaving_ for the _Tribunal._ We _know,_ this. We have their _backing_ and _protection_ because of our… _expertise._ Yes? We are an _asset_ that the Tribunal _values_ greatly.”

He nodded. “Yes, I am aware. That is why you are the only ones I could trust, for both Sivin and Eri. But if you wish payment to come from the Tribunal, that is something that –”

“We _want_ in.”

Adrestin blinked “…Pardon?”

“We want _in,_ Lord Belus. We want _more.”_ Brizx’t stepped close enough that their breath tickled at Adrestin’s chest scales as they stared up at him. _“Access_ to the Tribunal. The _right_ to _approach_ their inner circle. _Knowledge_ of their schemes. We _know_ there is something _greater_ at work here. We have _long_ watched and _long_ waited. _We. Want. In.”_

Adrestin’s eyes went wide, flashing briefly in the haze. “That kind of authorization is not mine to give, Brizx’t.”

“Is it _not?”_

“…I can speak with them on your behalf.”

Brizx’t backed off, compound eyes narrowing in what could have been either pleasure or irritation, or both. “Do that. Keep our _comm._ We will _be_ on our _ship.”_ They suddenly turned and retreated back up their boarding ramp, followed by their swarms of droids.

Adrestin inclined his head once more to Brizx’t’s retreating figure, casting Sivin a shrug and a quizzical half-smile before he turned and swept into the _Archon Red._

Sivin matched Adrestin’s shrug with one of his own. “Things keep getting weirder. Alright you two. You got everything of yours?”

Both Dom and Astele nodded, and Sivin ushered them up the boarding ramp. “Then I think we’re about ready to go. As nice as Niam’s been, I’m going a little crazy here. Too dry, too much dust.”

Dom sighed behind his respirator. “I’m not too thrilled about being stuck on a ship again, though. Sounds like it might be for a long time.”

Sivin shook his head as he closed the ramp and hatch behind them. “I don’t know about that. I have a feeling we’ll get to our destination all too quickly.”

As they entered the common room and were greeted by the faces of Erion, Glaucus and Acerra, Sivin had to suppress an inward shudder at the power of their auras in the Force. “...Wherever that destination might be.”


	40. In Which Sivin Finally Gets Some Sleep, And Domthus Meditates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sivin is utterly exhausted from everything that's been happening, and takes the first opportunity he can to crawl into bed. But not before he talks to Adrestin, of course. Meanwhile, Dom is trying to sort some things out on his own.

Sivin flopped heavily down on the bed and buried himself in the pillows, inhaling deep into one of them and letting his face relax into a lazy smile. “Does this mean I can actually sleep, soon?”

Adrestin matched Siv’s smile with a weary one of his own. “Yes, certainly. Right now if you so choose. I have to speak with the others about Brizx’t and I wish to touch base with Eri and Dom before takeoff, but then it should take me only a short time to dock with the _Viridescent,_ and then I can join you. I believe almost everyone is going to be resting on the way to the Enclave, at least for a time. It will take us two full standard days to get there, at least.”

“Mm. Okay.”

Adrestin sat down on the edge of his bed and ran a clawed hand over Sivin’s tendrils, capturing one of them between his fingers. “I also wanted to check in with you.”

Sivin blinked up at him, face still half-hidden in the pillows. “Aside from being kriffing exhausted, I think I’m okay.”

One set of eyebrows raised. “Are you sure, Sivin? You have borne the weight of many losses within the past few hours. I worry that it is only because things have been moving so quickly that you are not feeling the full burden of their existence.”

Sivin’s eyes squeezed shut, and he took a slow, deep breath. “…Yeah. I was… kind of hoping things would keep moving fast so I wouldn’t have to think about it.”

Adrestin’s touch went from Siv’s tendrils to his cheek, and he stroked the side of Siv’s face with the back of his hand. “You know that will not help you.”

He received a tiny nod. “…I know. I just… it’s hard. Maybe even harder than you think.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” Siv cracked open his eyes and took Adrestin’s hand in his own, running his fingers over the scales on his knuckles. “The Republic has been hit hard. Coruscant is in tatters. The Jedi Temple has been hit, and the Council is… gone, or nearly so. And Zarinne told me that just before the attack, the Council had summoned most of BrightWatch, to regroup and reorganize stations. They were all… they were all there, at the Jedi Temple, when it was hit.” He swallowed hard and tried in vain to keep his voice from cracking. “I have no way of knowing who, if anyone, survived.”

Adrestin’s eyes dropped, and he gently squeezed Sivin’s hand. “I’m sorry, Sivin. I know how much they meant to you.”

“I just feel awful, because…” He looked away from Adrestin, shame mottling his skin. “Because before I knew, I was… I was pretty okay. I mean, it really shook me up, what happened on Coruscant and to the Council – but I was okay.”

Adrestin nodded slowly. “But BrightWatch is a creation of your own making, Sivin. The Jedi you worked with the most closely and cared most deeply about are within its ranks. It is only natural that you feel more strongly about the loss.”

A few tears escaped Sivin’s eyes, and he turned his face into Adrestin’s palm. “…I guess so. And it… it doesn’t help that even though Zarinne survived, I’m still… I’m still losing her. I just…”

Adrestin leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his friend’s forehead, and his low vibration rose up from deep within his chest, extending out to envelop Sivin in a blanket of protection within the Force. “Tears are not of the Dark Side, Sivin. You needn’t worry about their release.”

Sivin’s heart welled up inside of him and he lurched forward to wrap his arms as far around Adrestin’s waist as he could. He buried his face in his friend’s scales and let the tears flow, not bothering to restrain the sniffles and hitches in his breathing. “Thank you…”

Adrestin’s arms curled snugly around his shoulders, and he bent forward to nuzzle the side of Siv’s head with his snout. “I’m here, Siv.”

“Would you stay with me, until I fall asleep?”

“Of course.”

 

* * * * *

 

“And then Glaucus just _headbutted_ the guy, knocked him clean out. We never had problems with his guild after that.”

Astele’s eyes were as huge as her grin, and she cackled. “Oh man, did it hurt? I mean, T’surr have all those bones in their heads...”

Glaucus just shrugged and Acerra slapped him on his knee, laughing. _“Nobody’s_ head is harder than Glau’s.”

<Except perhaps Lord Belus’s.>

Acerra’s eyes twinkled as she turned her smile to Eri. “Can’t argue with that.”

“I certainly don’t think I am _that_ stubborn.”

All four Sith turned to the threshold of the hallway where Adrestin had appeared, and all four smiled at his return. Acerra waved a hand in dismissal in the air. “Oh but of course _you_ wouldn’t. How’s your Jedi? Doing okay?”

Adrestin _gurgle-clicked_ in the back of his throat and sat down heavily between Acerra and Astele, shaking his head. “He is… managing. It is a difficult time for him. I only wish the Jedi Council had had less of a hold on him when he was younger, it would have made it easier on him now.”

Eri shrugged. <Such is the case with most Jedi. He will survive.>

“I’d be much happier with a full recovery and a sense of happiness and fulfillment, but I suppose at this point I should be grateful for whatever we can get. And for now, that just means he’ll get a full cycle’s sleep.”

Acerra nodded. “And what about the other one? He holed up in Astele’s room the minute we got on board.”

Astele pouted and crossed her arms. “He’s being dumb and _shy,_ or something. I thought he’d be over this kind of idiocy now that he finally got used to Lord Belus, but apparently it’s still a ‘thing’.” She fingerquoted the air and rolled her eyes.

Erion and Adrestin exchanged looks over Astele’s head, and Adrestin gave them a half-smile. “I’ll go talk to him.”

 

* * * * *

 

“ _There is no passion, there is serenity.”_

Dom sat cross-legged on the floor of Astele’s room, all lights extinguished except for the faint glow of his personal comm unit. It had been tuned to a hologram of a candle and a flame, and it was on this that Dom’s eyes were focused, lowered to slits so he could see only the barest of flickers from the hologram’s light. He didn’t even notice the soft tapping at the door.

“ _There is no chaos, there is harmony.”_

The door slipped open, letting the dim lights of the hall outside filter in. “…Dom? It’s Adrestin. Are you… oh.”

Dom’s eyes finally slid open and he cracked a small smile up at Adrestin. “Sorry, I was just… um. Guess I shouldn’t even be doing _that_ anymore, huh?”

Adrestin let the door slide shut behind him, and he crossed his legs on the floor to sit beside Domthus. “Meditation is not exclusive to the Jedi, Dom. There is no reason you cannot continue to do so, even after you have left your Order.”

He sighed, sheepish. “Yeah, but I guess I shouldn’t be trying to meditate on their code, still.”

Adrestin raised a single upper eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Well, I mean – isn’t it kind of… uh… I don’t know, inappropriate, or something? It’s not really mine anymore, not now.”

“Mm.” Adrestin settled into his position and rested his hands on his knees, palms up and fingers half-curled. “I suppose that entirely depends. If the Jedi Code is something you still believe in, then there is no reason why you should not meditate on it. If you wish it to still be yours, then take it. Claim it. You do not have to be a Jedi for their beliefs to be your own. With contemplation and time, your heart will tell you where it belongs, and what belongs within it.”

Dom shook his head. “I guess that’s the thing. I don’t even know if I believe it still. I’m just… trying to feel things out. See what still… speaks to me, I guess.”

“An admirable pursuit.” Adrestin smiled down at Dom before letting his lower eyes slip shut, and he focused his upper pair on the small holo of the candle flame. “So… tell me how it goes?”

Dom eyed Adrestin quizzically for a moment before resuming his meditation posture. He slipped back into the familiar words, intoning the first line of the Jedi Code.

“ _There is no emotion, there is peace.”_

He could feel the pulse and flow of the Force curling about Adrestin, both cold and heat, surrounding his presence like a dark flame. The Dark Side welled up around him so thickly that for a moment, Dom thought the entire room had been consumed in blackness. But the light of the holo flame still flickered on his comm, and Dom suppressed a shiver. “I don’t… I don’t think I believe that one anymore.”

Adrestin’s voice was soft and gentle. “Why is that, Dom?”

His own pale aura flushed pink, and he clenched one hand into a fist. “Because it’s not _true._ I mean, _sometimes_ it is, but most of the time there’s just… so much more _emotion_ to life than _peace._ It doesn’t seem right to try and shut out the one in favour of the other.”

“I see.”

Dom risked a glance up at Adrestin, but half of his eyes were still closed and the others still focused on the holo candle. Dom pursed his lips, thoughtful. “What… what does the Sith Code start with?”

He could feel Adrestin’s soft smile in the Force.

“ _Peace is a lie, there is only passion.”_

As if in response to his words Adrestin’s aura surged and shifted, deepening without consuming. Dom shivered beside him, and he swallowed hard. “That… doesn’t seem true, either.”

Adrestin surprised him when he shook his head. “No, it is not.”

“Wh… but Adrestin, you’re _Sith.”_

“Indeed I am. To my very core.” Adrestin let his upper pair of eyes open and flick down to Dom, a twinkle growing behind them. “But that does not mean I agree with every tenet of our lore. Peace is indeed a lie, in so much as it is fleeting and temporary. But that does not mean that peace is worthless. In fact, its fleeting nature makes it that much more valuable when it does happen to be present. Either way, it does not leave solely passion. There is, as you have said, so much more to life. Nothing is ever as simple as the lines of any code would attempt to make it.”

Dom nodded slowly as he chewed on his lower lip. “That makes sense.”

“What is the next line of the Jedi Code, Domthus?”

As if he were back in classes on Coruscant, Dom settled back into his meditation posture and found his center once again, letting his voice intone the words.

“ _There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.”_

A soft silence filled the room, and both Sith and former Jedi sat quietly, studying the artificial flame. Dom hadn’t even noticed when Adrestin’s low vibration had first crept in around him, but now it surrounded him like a warm blanket on a winter’s night. He settled into it the same way he had settled into his meditation, and once again he glanced up at Adrestin.

A single eyebrow raised, revealing the twinkle in Adrestin’s eyes. “Wondering what I have to say about that one?”

Dom nodded, and Adrestin reached over to gently touch his shoulder. “What do _you_ say about that one?”

“Well… it makes sense, I guess. I mean, there _is_ ignorance, but I guess it’s more of a lack of knowledge than anything. You can always negate ignorance by learning from your mistakes, or by growing as a person. Either way, I think it’s better to focus on gaining wisdom, even if it’s uncomfortable sometimes, instead of just letting yourself wallow in ignorance. You’ll be better off in the long run, and you might end up making the galaxy a better place too.”

“True indeed.”

“What’s… the second line of the Sith Code?”

“Nothing nearly as resonant, though certainly something I believe.” He flashed Dom a grin. _“Through passion, I gain strength.”_

Dom echoed his smile. “I like that one.”

“As do I. Although such passion could often do well to be tempered with wisdom and knowledge. I find that making knowledge a passion, in and of itself, covers all of my bases quite well.”

Dom grinned. “Sounds pretty solid to me.”

“What comes next, Dom?”

“Oh, um… Heh. Something completely opposite, I guess.”

“And what’s that?”

“ _There is no passion, there is serenity.”_

Adrestin allowed himself a small smile. “I certainly can see how Sith and Jedi have some of their disagreements.”

“Yeah.” Dom sighed and adjusted his posture. “I mean, serenity is an admirable goal, but I don’t think it should completely displace passion.”

“Agreed.”

“What about the Sith Code? What comes next?”

Once again the Dark Side swelled up around Adrestin as he spoke, burgeoning like a storm about to break. The static in the air felt as though lightning could strike at any time, and the cold fire burning inside of Adrestin made itself manifest in the flash of his sunburst eyes.

“ _Through strength, I gain power.”_

Dom fell silent, both awed and cowed by the sheer force of Adrestin’s aura. A shiver ran up the base of his spine, both from the exhilaration of being so close to the power Adrestin just spoke of, and also the fear of that exact same power. The light of his own fluctuating aura seemed dim and wan in comparison. His eyes dropped back down to the artificial candle, its own wavering pinpoint of light so small in the darkness of the room.

Adrestin brushed fingers over the back of Dom’s horns. “Such power comes at great cost, and even greater responsibility. Had I not learned to know not only when to unleash it, but also when control it, I would have been lost to it long ago. It is a lesson many Sith fail to learn.”

His touch felt comforting, but still Dom couldn’t suppress a tiny shudder. His stomach felt like it was full of Sriluurian butterflies. “I guess that’s one of the reasons why the Jedi don’t want people studying the Dark Side. It’s too chaotic and unpredictable.”

Adrestin shrugged, but he smiled once again. “Perhaps. That certainly does bleed into the next line of the Jedi Code, doesn’t it?”

Dom nodded. _“There is no chaos, there is harmony.”_

“Mm.” Adrestin leaned back, using his tail as a prop as adjusted his position to turn and face Dom. “And what do you think of that one?”

Dom matched Adrestin’s movement and shifted around to face him as well, and as he did so Adrestin used the Force to move the candle hologram between them, bathing the floor in a small circle of dim blue light. Dom watched the candle, marveling that somehow it didn’t seem smothered under the weight of Adrestin’s presence in the Dark Side. “I’m… I’m honestly not sure. What do _you_ think?”

Adrestin shook his head. “Perhaps if you have not thought on it, my own perceptions should not colour yours so soon. As much as it would please me to have thoughts and beliefs that align, I would not wish for you to adopt my own conclusions simply because my opinions are ones you value.”

Dom gave him a faint smile. “Heh, I guess I’m just too used to being told what to think.”

“Thinking for oneself can be difficult. But it need not be rushed, either. Nor is it a bad thing to change one’s mind, after further contemplation and experience.”

“Oh… well… if that’s the case, I could… take a stab at it.”

Adrestin inclined his head and raised a set of eyebrows in an invitation to continue, and Dom took a deep breath. “I guess… I think that particular line is both right and wrong. There _is_ chaos, and there _is_ harmony. And they don’t really seem like they’re mutually exclusive, to be honest. They’re not opposites. I’ve seen… I’ve seen beautiful things come out of chaos, things that _have_ harmony – and peace too.”

All four of Adrestin’s eyes twinkled. “I have said it before, Dom, but there is much wisdom in you that you seem unaware of. The Sith Empire would do well to learn from people like you.”

Dom’s horns flushed a deeper shade of purple, and he found himself suddenly grateful for the darkness of the room and the depth of Adrestin’s shadow. “I… thank you. I don’t see it, but… thank you.” He shifted from side to side, keen on changing the subject. “What does the next line of the Sith Code say?”

The twinkle in Adrestin’s eyes remained, and he let slip a knowing smile. But he acquiesced to Dom’s attempt at redirection with a nod. “There are two, that couple together so well you rarely hear one without the other. _‘Through power, I gain victory.’”_

His voice grew quiet, but the Force behind his words was visceral and vibrant, so full of latent power even the faint background hum of the ship’s idling engines seemed to still.

“ _Through victory, my chains will be broken.”_

The shiver at the base of Dom’s spine climbed its way up the back of his neck and to the tips of his horns, leaving him feeling tingly and almost breathless. He had no words to respond with – he only stared up at Adrestin and his presence in the Force, wide-eyed at the seething, writhing darkness aflame within the Sith Lord’s very core of being.

Adrestin spoke again, voice barely above a whisper as he reached forward to slowly take both of Dom’s hands in his own. “And this is the center of everything I hold dear as a Sith, Domthus. It is not truly about power. It is about breaking chains. It is about _freedom._ It is about becoming more within the Force than you ever could be alone.” He gently squeezed Dom’s hands, eyes twinkling with not only his inner fire and power but with life and love as well. _“_ _The Force shall free me.”_

Dom found the corners of his eyes wet with tears, but they were born not of fear or sadness but of awe. “I…”

Adrestin tilted his head to one side in question. “What is it, Domthus?”

Dom blinked them away, smiling as he shook his head. “I don’t think the end of the Jedi Code can really compete with that.”

“I do not believe it should be a competition.” Adrestin patted one of Dom’s hands in encouragement. “Tell me the last line? I know it well.”

Dom nodded and let his eyes slip shut, hardly aware that as he spoke his own aura flared pale pink and bright as a full moon, spangled with the blue light of stardust.

“ _There is no death, there is the Force.”_

Adrestin closed his lower pair of eyes to the light of Dom’s aura, and he smiled down at his little friend as he ran his thumbs over his knuckles. “And in a way of speaking, Dom, such a thing is true.”

Dom opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “How? I’ve seen a lot of death, ever since I joined BrightWatch. Ever since I met…” His gaze fell, guilty.

Adrestin raised one hand to cup Dom’s chin, raising his eyes to look at him once more. “The Force surrounds us, and penetrates us. Permeates the fabric of the universe, transcends space and the spiral of time. It births chaos and harmony, light and dark. It unites us all under the banner of life, as it unites us all in death. And from death springs life anew, to begin the cycle once again. From the Force we all come, and to the Force we return.”

Tears stung the corners of Dom’s eyes once again, and his tiny smile returned. “I… I like seeing it that way.”

“And so such words come from such a place, when you hear the Jedi say _‘May the Force be with you’.”_ Adrestin released his chin and ran his fingers over the tops of Dom’s horns. “In this the Jedi have grasped much wisdom that many Sith have forgotten or never knew. There is much we could teach each other, if only we would listen.”

Dom nodded, horns mottling once again at Adrestin’s contact. “Is that… something the Tribunal wants to do?”

Adrestin’s upper pair of eyes remained fixed on Dom, but his lower dropped to the floor. “I do not know for certain, Dom. They are certainly more open to it than the Sith Empire, but their focus has been much more internal than outward to people beyond the Sith. It is something I wish to clarify as my influence among their number is solidified, at the Enclave. Particularly if Sivin is intending on becoming an ambassador to my people.”

“Oh. Yeah. The Enclave.”

Adrestin couldn’t help but notice Dom’s shudder. “Is that why you have tucked yourself away in here?”

He nodded. “Yeah… I just… Every time I meet a new Sith Lord, I get so anxious. You’re all so _scary.”_

Adrestin let out a chuckle. “Appearances are often deceiving, as I am sure you are coming to know.”

“Not really.” Dom shook his head. “You’re still _scary,_ Adrestin. I just finally realized you didn’t want to _kill_ me. Those other Sith out there? Lord Acerra and Lord Glaucus? I don’t _know_ them, and I don’t know anybody on this Tribunal that we’re going to go meet, either. I mean, Vialis will be there, won’t he? And he’s _terrifying.”_

Adrestin got to his feet, drawing Dom up with him by his hands. “And none of them will harm you, either. But you also do not have to go, if you do not wish to. If you choose to remain here, Niam and Gallus will take good care of you.”

Dom blinked. “I… hadn’t thought of that.”

“The choice is yours, Dom. We can go to the Enclave and pick you up when we return.”

“Mm.” Dom frowned as he thought, his teeth worrying at his lower lip. “But… Astele would never let me hear the end of it if I didn’t go. And besides, you and Sivin will be there, so… I’d be safe. I’m just… fretting about things as usual, I guess.”

Adrestin rested a hand on one of Dom’s shoulders. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be okay. I trust you.”

The twinkle fast returned to Adrestin’s eyes, and he bent to place a light kiss on the part of Dom’s cheek not covered by his respirator. “And I will never betray that trust, Dom. I should probably go and ask the others about Brizx’t’s request, before we leave.”

Dom managed a nod and Adrestin slipped out of the room, leaving Dom to absently touch his cheek as he stood staring at the door.

 

* * * * *

 

<Is he alright, Belus?>

Adrestin nodded as he made his way into the common area. “He has some trepidation about being in such close proximity to so many powerful Sith, but when given the opportunity to return to Niam’s settlement he chose to remain on board. I have given him every reassurance I am able, and perhaps a few thoughts to contemplate instead of fixating on worrying.”

Erion raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question him further. <Are we leaving, then?>

“Not quite. Lord Acerra, Lord Glaucus, I have an inquiry.”

Acerra kicked her feet up onto the Dejarik table and shrugged. “What’s up, Bel?”

“Before we came aboard, Lord Gnosia approached me with their thoughts on my repayment of their services they recently rendered to myself and Erion. They are no longer satisfied with having only the support and protection of the Tribunal. They wish access to the inner circle, and I am assuming deeper knowledge of our intent.”

Glaucus’s brow shot up, and Acerra cackled as she punched him lightly on his shoulder. “You hear that? Finally!”

Adrestin could only cock his head in bemusement. “Have I missed something?”

She leaned forward in her seat, dropping her feet back to the floor. “The Tribunal has been wanting to bring Brizx’t into the fold for a long time. We’ve already trusted them with a lot of things over the years, but they’ve long proven themselves to be reliable and vacuum-tight when it comes to keeping secrets. But you know how they are. Has to be _their_ idea. We’ve kind of been playing hard-to-get in hopes that their curiosity would spark naturally.”

Astele bounced up and down on her heels between Eri and Adrestin. “Does that mean we get to have Brizx’t aboard? This is _so cool!”_

<Calm yourself, apprentice.> Eri cast a flat stare up at Adrestin, their own words more of a question or a plea than a statement. <They have their own ship, I doubt they would need to be aboard the Archon Red.>

“Quite right, Eri.” Adrestin nodded. “Besides, I doubt any of us could actually pry them away from their own ship for more than a few minutes. I’d like to comm them and inform them they can dock with the _Viridescent?”_

Acerra nodded at the question directed at her. “Of course. Docking Bay Fourteen. And we will be going to Docking Bay Nine.”

“Duly noted. I shall inform them.” He pulled Brizx’t’s comm unit from his pocket and turned to the threshold of the cockpit. “Now then. Shall we depart?”


End file.
